Rush
by Wheynet
Summary: When Clint is given a reprieve from his psych. evals. he takes a relaxing camping trip, but soon is interrupted by a familiar face- one he thought he'd never see again. With the situation handed to him, Clint must re-evaluate his life, finding out what his life is going to be turned into with a wayward god living in his apartment. (Published on AO3)
1. Rachel Rocket

In his tiny chair Clint stared down at the grey carpet that covered the length of the office. It's that kind of carpet that's never just one color- it has dark threads of purple and green and blue woven into the grey. For a moment he wiggled in the chair and made an awkward scene of finding the best position in which to look at the fabric of his chair cushion. Spreading his legs ended up being a better choice than twisting to see it under his butt. It's yellow, but again not _just_ yellow. White and light-blue-maybe-silver also cross into it. Clint grimaced and continued to look at the carpet, rubbing his thumb over his pants in a kind of lost irritation. There's this droning noise just outside of his ears and he thinks he knows what he's hearing but he can't quite make himself care enugh to really define it. He starts scratching his pants with his nails. When the noise starts sounding like something he can identify, he focuses on the carpet threads a little less.

"-ent Barton?"

Clint raised his head slowly, face slack and dazed. "Huh?"

The man behind the chrome polished desk raised his brows at the agent. He has a long face the color of dry beach sand and keeps his desk neatly organized but full of... stuff. He has a Newton's Cradle but Clint's thankful it isn't moving. He'd most likely swipe it right off the desk the second he came into the room. For a second he wondered how he knew what it was called.

"Feeling alright today? You seem to find the carpeting fascinating," the man said. The name plaque on the edge of the desk read 'Dr. Winchester'. Clint wondered if the doctor forgot his name often enough to warrant the name plaque.

"It has too many colors," Clint decided.

Doctor Winchester nodded his head slowly and reached for a pen, jotting something down in the folder he had flipped open. Clint scoffed. Apparently his assessment of the carpet was noteworthy. Good. Maybe they'll rip it out and put something sensible in. He thought he should make his opinion heard more often if anyone would take him seriously. But Clint knew his remark was being noted against him.

'Unfocused.'

'Distant.'

He might as well say it all. "The chair too."

The doctor looked up from his scribbling with interest. "Oh?"

"Yellow with white and light blue? I think it's blue." Clint leaned down between his thighs to look closely at the cushion. "Could be silver."

Winchester put down his pen and gave Clint his full attention. "Is it jarring to have too many elements? Do you prefer the simplicity of complimentary colors?"

"You mean do I like things to be black and white?"

"Sure," the doctor said.

"Nothing is black and white, Doc. You're a shrink, you should know that." Clint had a feeling this conversation was going nowhere he wanted it to go.

Winchester pushed his lips out and nodded. "Yes, but some things can be. Especially inside one's mind. For some, one set of parameters can be cut and dry, and then for others a hundred shades of grey. Are you finding that you wish life was one or the other?"

The men stared at each other.

"Because of Loki."

Clint hoped he didn't flinch at the name. He hoped he kept a straight face and tried to brush the conversation off.

"I thought we already had this talk," he said.

"About color?"

Clint wanted to punch Winchester in the mouth for playing dumb. For trying to make him say the name.

"Look, Doc," he said, sighing and resting his arms heavily in his lap. "We talked about it, and him, and I'm done with it. I'm ready to move on here."

"Ready to move on yet you can't say his name. It's just a name, it has no power over you."

"Not anymore, right?" Clint accused. "What is this, a fucking speech from Hermione? I'll call that asshole Voldemort if I want, but I'd rather not call him at all!"

Clint snapped his mouth shut and jabbed his elbows onto his knees, resting his head against his fists while he calmed himself. Winchester let him.

"I'm ready. I am," he said to his lap. "Just... Being forced into these sessions is pissing me off."

The doctor seemed agreeable to that point. "We could take a break. Take a few weeks away, at home, and then see each other later."

Clint exhaled hard and rubbed his reddened face. "Yeah... uh, please, yeah I'd like that."

The doctor quietly went about shuffling through papers in a drawer and filling one out, letting Clint sit silently in his chair. He went to rest his arms and jerked them back at the cold. The frame was chrome just like the desk. They were probably a matching set but the doctor switched it out for his own plush leather chair. Clint felt that Winchester most likely made more money than he did. What a gip- saving the world verses digging into someone's head. The thought made him feel even worse. He was sure there was some sick joke in there, but he preferred not to think about it.

"Alright," Winchester said to break Clint out of his daze. "I'll send these along and we'll meet again in three weeks. It that long enough?"

It'll never be long enough.

"I'll take it," Clint said and walked out of the office.

The thought of the break from his psychiatrist sapped most of the stress from Clint's muscles and he walked easily through headquarters to his locker. He was moving automatically, not thinking about why he would be taking his battle gear with him. He wandered down to the basement that was officially labeled 'GYM', but it was a basement. All concrete and steel; no windows. He skirted the rows of workout machines and edges of the wresting mats and when he made it into the locker room he suddenly didn't know why he was there. He stared at his locker and breathed in the damp warm air of the showers.

Locker number 111.

He had drawn arrowheads and fletchings on the numbers when he was recruited. In full view of the Director, of course, who looked none-too pleased but never made any attempt to remove it. Clint had been proud of his work of art then, backing away from the locker with his chest puffed out like a song-bird. Long time ago it felt like. Back when he knew that he was killing for the sake of humanity. Now? Even the good guys were a little backhanded.

Clint tried not to think about it and smiled at his arrow drawings and started to twist the locking dial. Across the showers and lockers he heard a woman's voice.

"Female on the floor!"

And the men who heard her echoed her warning,

"Female on the floor."

" _Female_ on the floor."

"Female _on the floor_!"

The agent in Clint's row of lockers grabbed his shorts and quickly tugged them on.

"Clint!" That woman's voice again.

Clint turned and smiled when the bouncy red hair came around the corner of lockers. She wore tiny shorts and a crop top with sneakers and she dried her sweaty forehead with the towel draped over her shoulders.

"Hey, Nat," Clint greeted her and opened his locker.

"Wanna get down and dirty with me?"

Clint snorted and shook his head while he fingered the arrows in his mechanized quiver. "Nah," he declined. "I'm going home."

"Oh, yeah?" Natasha sat on the long row of benches behind them and pulled on the ends of her towel. "I noticed you're out early." She had memorized his schedule of shrink meetings. Out early meant Clint had either walked out, or talked well enough for the doctor to be pleased with his 'progress'.

"Yeah," he sighed and sat down beside her, thigh to thigh. "Winchester's giving me a break finally. Got a few weeks to myself."

"So what are you doing down here?"

Clint loved her soft and quiet tone. He never felt like she was accusing or talking down to him.

"I have no idea," he said and chuckled. "Guess it's just habit to get my gear." He flipped the locker door shut with his boot and tossed the heavy lock gently in his hand. He clicked his tongue and stood. "Guess I'm going home then." He slid the lock in place and clicked it shut.

Natasha had stood up and walked with him out of the showers. When someone across the gym called out for her to join them she squeezed Clint's arm in goodbye.

"Say hello to Chuck for me," she called as she and Clint parted ways.

"His name is Charles!" Clint yelled.

He watched her move to spot someone on the heavy weights and smiled when she encouraged the guy like any other 'dude' would. He couldn't hear her, but he knew what she would be saying.

'Come on, come on. Yeah! Get some!'

And when the bar was fitted back into it's resting place:

'Whoo, good show! Ready for another lift? Yep, work that shit!'

Clint laughed as he climbed the stairs out of the basement. Weird chick.

Clint wanted to smack himself for taking the unnecessary trip down to the basement as he started hopping the steps up and up through headquarters two at a time. He climbed up to the top and gathered his breath at the closed door down at the end of the hall. He knocked politely and then entered, finding the Director of SHIELD leaning back on a sofa, one leg languidly crossed over the other at the knee. The man looked up from the papers in his hand and seemed surprised.

"Agent Barton," the man acknowledged at sat up.

Clint nodded in return. "Director Fury."

"Is there a problem?"

"No, sir," Clint reassured and stepped further into the spacious office.

Fury gave Clint a waiting stare with his one eye and the blond figured he should get to the point.

He cleared his throat. "Well, I'm, uh... I'm taking a few weeks off." He stammered and folded his arms in front of him.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Fury asked sternly as he leaned back on the couch and spread his arms along the back of it.

Clint weighed his options for a second and then thought 'what the hell'. Fury was giving him the choice, right? "I'm telling you. The Doc and I are taking a break and I'm gonna take this time for myself."

If that didn't make it sound like they were dating. Winchester and Clint had spent enough time together.

"Are you going off the grid? Should I be concerned?"

"If I do, sir, Agent Romanoff will know where I am."

Fury nodded once and hummed.

"Three weeks, sir," Clint assured. "Three weeks and I'm back.

The director acquiesced with a nod of his bald head and waved a hand. "If Winchester's letting you off the hook, I've got nothing to say then."

Clint quirked the corner of his mouth in a half smile and bowed his head. "Thank you, sir." He shoved his hands into his coat pockets and retreated from Fury's office, heading back to the ground floor and into the garages to find his bike.

Through the New York traffic Clint weaved his motorcycle between vehicles, chuckling to himself when he sometimes drove onto the sidewalks a moment and scared the pedestrians. He tried not to do it often though, he felt like the cops would be onto him sooner or later.

Finally out of the busy streets and onto residential roads, Clint parked his bike against the curb and hopped up the few steps to his apartment building. Upon opening his front door he breathed deeply, smelling light dust and he wrinkled his nose at it, but it was home. He shrugged off his jacket and threw it over the back of the couch, toeing off his boots at the same time and wriggling his sock covered toes. He moved into the tiny kitchen then and opened the window above the sink, the only window in his apartment, and he looked across the alleyway to the next building. Another window, small and singular like his own, sat directly across the way, its short curtains rustling in the breeze. A woman with fading coppery hair washed the dishes in that window and Clint thought she looked as tired and out of it as he felt. The woman glanced up as though she could feel his gaze and she smiled gently at him. He smiled back and waved before moving away to the end of the counter where a tall vase sat with a lone fish swimming inside it. Clint rested his head and arms on the counter beside the vase and watched the white and orange beta fish nibble at the roots of the plant floating on top of his water.

"Hey, Charles," Clint said to the fish. "'Tasha says hello."

Charles ignored him and swam a circuit around his bowl.

Clint straightened and tapped his hand on the counter. "Good talk."

He started to head back into the living room when music began drifting in through the open window. Jazz. Clint stopped and smiled to himself, knowing it was the woman in the apartment building across the alley who put it on. She puts it on for him, he knows. He leaned against the back of the couch, facing the front door, having forgotten what he was going to do. He closed his eyes and listened to the soft notes wafting into his home. Sometimes he wished he knew the names of the songs, but he felt it might take some of that magic out of it. He could very well buy the songs, listen to them whenever he pleased... And then this rapport would suddenly not feel so special. He didn't want that.

After a moment he finally moved, slowly roaming the couple rooms of his apartment aimlessly. He ended up in the living room again, sparse as it was with a simple couch, large television seated on the floor, end table. The highlights of his decor are things he picked up from missions. A prayer rug he stole from a temple in Bursa lay on the floor between the couch and TV. He smuggled it back in his pack as a sleeping mat. On the second-hand end table sat a large brass ashtray embossed with the images of the animals of the Chinese zodiac which he used as a candy tray. Clint had run along the rooftops of a city square in Jinhua during the lunar new year celebrations, keeping out of sight from the locals and starting to head home after a mission well done when he stopped to watch dancers shimmy down the streets. He'd stopped just above someone's balcony where the ashtray sat, full of cigarette butts, and he nabbed it, just like that. In Japan, with Natasha, he'd bought her a kimono, full and rich and she looked beautiful in it; while he got for himself a few of the furin wind chimes to hang in front of his kitchen window. His bed was covered in bedsheets from India.

He sat on the arm of the couch, looking up at the wooden bow hanging on the wall and the quiver stuffed full of arrows in the corner. He tapped his fingers on his arms restlessly and then pushed himself to fall back onto the cushions. He stared at the ceiling and pulled out his phone, dialing Natasha.

It rang in his ear for a moment before he remembered that she'd most likely still be in the gym. She tended to make a day of it. Sure enough, the call went to voicemail.

' _You know who you called- you know what to do_ ,' her recorded voice said and then the line beeped, ready for his message.

"Nat, I'm going camping tomorrow," he declared. "I'll meet you on the roof of HQ at 0700; you can jet me over. See ya." He hung up and rolled off the couch, finding himself not quite so tired as he went about packing up for the trip.

With a heavy pack strapped over his shoulders and the bow from his wall and quiver in hand, Clint walked out onto the rooftop where Natasha was already waiting. She leaned against the back of the quinjet, her bright red locks waving over her face in the wind. She held some of it back with one hand to the side of her head and nodded with a smile at the other agent. Clint smiled back at her. She was beautiful. He loved their easy relationship; that they could just request stuff, demand things without asking and they made sure to do it for each other. They could ask if the other was okay without really asking. He could sit with her and touch; love her without having to be _in_ love with her.

Natasha snorted at Clint's goofy grin and turned to open the hatch of the jet, heading into the cockpit. Clint followed and stowed his gear, hitting the button for the metal lip of the machine to close them in and then he joined her in the co-pilot's seat. She ran the startup tests while he buckled in and double-checked her work.

"Did you bring your elf repellent?" She asked as slipped the headset over her ears and moved the microphone into position by her mouth.

In a good mood, Clint didn't roll his eyes at the recurring joke of his weapon choice. Everyone at SHIELD decided that if elves existed they'd fawn over the archer. He shook his head and played along for this one.

"Nah, I think I'm just gonna get boned by Thranduil this time," he replied flippantly.

Natasha cackled at this, expecting him to flip her off for her comment rather than volley back.

"What," Clint sounded offended. "You don't think I deserve a king?"

She shrugged and pulled her laughter down to chuckles and concentrated on guiding the jet through the air. "What about Elrond?"

Clint laughed himself this time and broke out of the banter. "Are we seriously talking about this right now?"

"You're the one that ran with it," Natasha defended. "You could've stopped at the beginning."

Clint rolled his eyes and they settled into a quiet companionship, watching the skies roll past them. "Thranduil has prettier lips," he muttered.

Natasha smiled at him and said nothing.


	2. Amber Opening

Over a pale yellow clearing in the midst of a ring of trees, the quinjet hovered and Clint jumped down from the ledge of the hatch with his bag and bow. He jogged to be in view of the cockpit as the hatch closed itself and he waved an all-clear. Natasha nodded at him and flew away, leaving Clint stranded alone in the waving grasses. He watched the jet disappear over the trees before sliding on a pair of sunglasses from his coat and running off into the forest.

He knew this place. He had come here often as he could through the years, mostly when he needed time away from people, from work, technology. Time away for life. Because this felt like life in the raw pulse of the wilderness. Urban dwelling seemed to him like a slow drain of blood- seeping out of your heart as a coagulated ooze. He was glad he had a job with excitement, rather than trundling along with the crowds that stuffed the New York streets to their office desks, or their restaurant sections, or mausoleum guard posts... Ticket booths. Natasha probably understood. She was the only one who knew about his getaway spot, just like he was the only one who knew hers.

When he found his usual stomping ground he set about making camp. Pitching the tiny one-man tent against a giant boulder, sweeping the pile of fallen leaves from his years-ago made ring of campfire stones. He threw his rolled up sleeping bag into the tent with his bow and quiver and left his pack on the ground, beginning the search for firewood. Weaving in and out of the trees, the blonde piled twigs and branches in one arm and then dropped them into a pile beside the rocks. He made a few trips back and forth like this, listening to the wind and looking up into the trees to spot the birds that chirped. Every so often a bee would buzz by on its way to a wildflower.

Clint was already feeling better. The manual labor and surviving with nature grounded him and forced him to focus on the task at hand. At least until the setup of camp was done. Then it would be time for reflection, where he didn't have to talk or explain or deal with people. He'd had enough of that.

Satisfied with his collection of wood, Clint retrieved a large pouch from his pack and set off for the river. It was far enough behind the trees that he couldn't see it from his camp, but he preferred it that way- he wouldn't be the only creature drinking from the river. When stepped out of the trees he froze when he spotted a doe across the river, lapping up her drink. She'd stopped too; her ears pricking up and her body tense, ready for the fight-or-flight, watching him. Cautiously, Clint stepped up to the streaming water and bent down on one knee. The doe watched him warily just as he watched her with awe. She did not move away.

With slow movements Clint unzipped the bag and dunked its opening into the water. He wasn't sure why he was taking such care not to disturb the deer but he kept up with his pace anyway. When the bag was full with the river, he lifted the lip and zipped it shut, slowly rising and slinging the bag over his shoulder. The movement startled the doe anyway and she jumped towards the tree line, stopping just at the edge to watch him again. Clint snorted and dismissed her, turning away for camp.

The sack of water was hung on a nearby tree and it's nozzle that pointed down the the grassy ground was fitted with a filter and rubber head that dispensed when squeezed. He took a crack at it and bent to let the filtered liquid pour into his mouth. He came up with a happy sigh and wiped the droplets of water from his mouth with the back of his hand. Fresh and cold.

He lit a fire in his ring of rocks, unrolled his sleeping bag in the tent and then sat on a rock by the fire. He stripped the bark off a few green branches and sharpened one end with a Swiss army knife and set them aside. And then he suddenly had enough sitting, feeling his stomach grumble for food, and he grabbed a canteen from his pack, filled it with the hanging water and strapped it to his hip. He fetched his bow and quiver from the tent and set off, wandering away in search.

Clint strolled easily through the forest, bow in one hand and the full quiver of arrows over his back. He looked away into the boughs of the trees, catching rays of sunshine through the foliage. A few more bees buzzed as he passed a patch of wild daisies. The sight of a blackberry bush brimming with the ripe berries brought a smile to his face and he went for them immediately. He plucked the fruit off its bramble and blew a stray ant off before popping it in his mouth. Perfectly juicy and soft. He'd forgotten he was in the right season for berries. He ate a couple more blackberries and committed the location to memory and kept on walking.

The blonde rounded a thick tree, running his fingers along the scratchy, grey bark. He came around the other side and stopped short at the sight of a rabbit just a few yards away nibbling on another blackberry bush. It's long ears perked up while it chewed at the low hanging fruit, twitching its tiny nose and looking back at Clint.

Clint smirked and slowly got down onto one knee and reached back to pluck an arrow from the quiver. He notched the arrow in its string and pulled it back and the rabbit froze, as if it knew what was happening. It made a slow wobble of a step and Clint released the arrow. He never missed his mark. Pleased with himself, Clint almost skipped to his kill and pulled his arrow out of its body. He held the rabbit by its ears and munched on a few more berries before heading back to camp, lightly swinging the bunny back and forth in his stride.

He sat on the ground as he skinned the rabbit, taking care with the pelt and setting it aside while he skewered the meat with his sharpened green sticks. The last few trips he'd made out here he began keeping the hides of his rabbit kills; had a whole collection of them in his apartment and he hoped to have enough by the end of this trip to have a blanket made of them. A huge fur blanket for his bed, that was fancy. He couldn't sew though, he'd have to pay someone to do the work. He didn't think his kind of sewing, on-the-fly wound stitches, would cut it for a blanket.

He cooked the rabbit over the fire, setting the spit in a trap of branches to hold it over the flames while he grabbed a small coffee can with a rubber lid out of his pack. From it he flipped through the resealable spice and herb packets, wondering what he'd put on the meat this meal. Rosemary. Salt and pepper. Easy.

The archer cooked and ate and drank water from his canteen and relaxed as the sun began its slow descent behind the trees. The stars slowly blinked on, one by one, against the darkening sky; not waiting for the colour to entirely evaporate into the night. Against the reddened and purply sky, small sparrows, black in the shadows, zoomed overhead to their nests. Clint had swiped off his sunglasses by then and stared just over the trees at the blooming stars, resting his chin in his hand. He brought with him only two pieces of modern technology- his phone (with headphones), and a small solar charger for it. He popped one bud into his ear and partially listened to the music from his phone and to the world around him.

It was still easy to forget that there were other creatures out there somewhere in the galaxy, like it was easy not to remember plights of developing countries and needy people. If it wasn't right there in your face, demanding your attention, you slipped peacefully back into your realm of life. Clint thought about the blind panic that clutched many people at the appearance of the Chitauri, and then compared it to the triumphant cheers that others exclaimed at the proof of aliens, and he wasn't sure if the Roswell coverup had been good for the country or not. The new species hadn't bothered Clint but for the fact there were now more enemies. Who cared that they weren't human, he could get used to their ugly faces in time, but if they were just another drug lord, another human trafficker... Another baddie that needed to be eliminated... Well. He'd be killing for the rest of his life. Clint had to admit it to himself though; he didn't mind killing. Not for the right reasons anyway. But when those right reasons seemed to lead him astray, what the hell was he doing it for?

His assignment to the PEGASUS Project really put him over the edge. When SHIELD first started acquiring and testing HYDRA weapons, playing around with power, he had been skeptical. The Tesseract gave him the willies. Not for the strangeness and fear of what could be on the other side of its door, but for the shear bold audacity of SHIELD trying to bust down the door and see what they could use. He hadn't been sure humanity was ready for a power beyond their own conception. What humans had already created still proved to be too much for them. Loki's appearance had proved him right. Not that he had much time to think about it then.

Clint shuddered and told himself it was from the cold that started seeping through the night. He stopped his train of thought and kicked a little dirt into the fire to quench some of the larger flames. He sat just on the inside of his tent to kick off his boots and then slid back onto the sleeping bag, letting himself settle for a moment before wriggling out of his clothes and crawling into the bag. He stared up into the darkness of the tent and heard the faint crackles of burning wood and wondered if he should be thinking about something. Anything. But he was suddenly out of thoughts to think. He squeezed his eyes shut and then relaxed them, huffing out an annoyed breath and turning onto his side, hoping he fell asleep quickly.

In the morning, when the symphony of bird calls swelled with the dawn, Clint slowly awoke like he had been drugged. He sat up groggily and was impressed at the amount of drool he had to wipe off his face, knowing it meant he'd slept hard and full. He missed those days when that was the only way he knew how to sleep. His pillow cases were washed every couple days back then.

He rubbed his face roughly and unzipped the tent, stretching out his limbs in the pale morning light. In his boxers only, he dropped to the ground and swung into a bout of pushups, panting with every thrust. He moved into sit-ups and then pushups again until he broke out into a sweat, bulging arms quivering with the effort and his abs aching. He got up and reached for his discarded canteen and gulped until he could hear the liquid sloshing in his stomach when he moved, and then he brought a small black bag out of his pack and went to his hanging water supply. He hung the bag on a low branch by a tiny loop of fabric and unzipped it to pull out a small bar of soap. He shimmied out of his boxers and threw them over the branch and grabbed the water nozzle, squirting the liquid onto his head. He shivered at the temperature and briskly scrubbed the soap against his hair and lathered it for his face, getting the water to rinse it down his body. He used the wake of water to lather the soap over the rest of him too, taking special care of washing his toes.

That was Mom's thing. Always wash the toes. She had told Clint stories of how she had counted his toes over and over when he was born, making sure they were all there. She claimed that baby Clint had the cutest tiny toes in the world. She meant it too, and wouldn't have it if he neglected those perfect things that she made in her womb and they rotted off. Or turned the nails yellow. Clint took no time to smile about her while he shivered through the cold and rinsed off as fast as he could. He rubbed his jaw and decided to leave the stubble for now, maybe he'd shave it off next shower. He had no one to impress out here. The grass proved to be soft under his feet as he walked back to the tent with boxers in hand and dressed in yesterdays clothes.


	3. Kings and Queens

Clint´s days passed in a similar fashion, working out a little just after waking, and then eating a granola bar and foraging berries for breakfast. He showered every couple days and refilled the water pack in the river. He hiked away for hours and killed his dinner and wowed himself when he came across a couple lone juniper trees. He climbed the trunks and stole their berries away by the handful in a small pouch. He referenced thin books tucked away in a pocket of his pants to name the trees he saw and the possible edible plants he wondered about.

It was barely a week into his camp when he was out hiking again, never leaving his bow behind, while he kneeled in the dirt and inspected a paw print left behind. Some kind of _canidae_. Maybe a fox. His coat pocket vibrated once against his ribs and he jolted at the surprise, not expecting to be contacted while he was, for all intents and purposes, off the grid. He revealed the phone and read the text message from Natasha:

 _Thunderstorm incoming. Buckle down._

Clint gave the phone a confused look. He knew the code, but not the reasoning. The second sentence meant trouble. He looked backward toward the direction of his camp, a couple hours walk back, and he stowed the phone. He gave the paw print in the damp earth a look of disappointment and headed back to the campsite.

As he neared the camp, afternoon sun setting into his eyes, the archer slowed his pace and sneaked behind trees, not wanting to reveal himself just yet. He heard no voices, but that didn't mean no one was there. He peaked around the edge of a tree and saw Thor standing by the fire pit, sans cape, hands on his hips just staring down at the embers. His back faced Clint but even from there Clint could see his shoulders loose in loss. He must be tired and unhappy. The thunder god exhaled sharply and waved a hand in exasperation.

"I suppose we shall have to wait for his return," he said and moved to sit on the ground.

Revealed by Thor's movement, Loki stood on the other side of the ring of stones, looking askance at the tops of the trees. Clint jerked back behind his own tree and squeezed a death grip on his bow, heart hammering in his chest. He was sure that he had begun hyperventilating, but he hoped he was being silent about it, questions slung in and out of his brain faster than he could really give them completion, angry and a little frightened by the appearance of his old master. He tried to pull himself together with an open mouthed gulp of air and thought about his next move. How would he greet them, one an ally and the other a foe? He considered the possibility of Thor being under control just like Clint had been, or else Loki would have been in chains like the last time he'd seen him. When he'd been taken back to Asgard as a prisoner.

Decision made, he notched an arrow and aimed it at Loki, his body hidden by the tree with only his arm visible, brushing against the bark.

"Thor," Clint said, and the blond god twisted around to see the man holding his arrow ready against his cheek. "Got an explanation for this?"

Loki made no movements; he looked blandly in Clint's direction, unperturbed by the weapon ready to run him through. Thor stood and rubbed the dirt off his hands, a smile on his face, and suddenly blocking Loki from view just as fully as he had hidden him before. Clint stepped sideways to keep him in his sights and Thor didn't move to prevent it.

"Hawkeye, there is no harm to come to you," the hulking god said simply, knowing the reason for Clint's caution.

The archer finally took a glance into Thor's eyes and saw them his normal blue shade, not the suffocating blue opal of the Tesseract.

"You positive on that?"

"My word on it, friend."

After a few second of deliberation, warring within himself, Clint eased the string of his bow and lowered it, coming out from behind the tree. Thor was pleased by his movement and squeezed Clint's shoulder before pulling him in for a half hug and thumping him on the back. He'd seen human males greet each other this way during his visits and used it as the custom greeting.

"Well met, my friend," Thor beamed and lead Clint to the fire pit and sat down again. Clint went to one knee and kept his eyes on Loki who still watched with no kind of emotion.

"Are you hunting, Hawkeye- it's not usually such a private affair."

"No, camping," the archer corrected, although he had been hunting for his meals. Thor looked at Clint for an explanation. "People come out to the wild and spend a couple days and then they go home. They use it as vacation time, relaxing. Most don't hunt for food while they do it. They bring food from home."

"But that takes the fun from it!" Thor smiled, seeming to understand the concept.

Clint looked away from Thor when he heard Loki click his tongue in irritation, and he wondered when he had looked away. Thor commanded attention. He looked back at the golden god and jerked his head towards Loki.

"What's going on with this? Why's he here?"

Thor's face was suddenly serious. Not grave, but he had news. "I come here on business with you- Loki is part of it."

"What happened to being tried in Asgard for punishment?"

Thor shrugged. "Well, that is our meaning here. My father has come to his decision and laid down his law, and so we've come to you."

"Enough fancy talk, man, just lay it out; I don't want to be around him longer than I have to."

Thor pursed his lips. "The AllFather has decreed that Loki will serve his sentence under your care. He has things-"

"Whoa, hey- say that again?"

"You are to be Loki's handler for the duration of his punishment."

Clint stared dumbfounded at Thor while he tried to process this tiny bit of information. His eyes skittered around him and he shook his head disbelievingly. "Wh- What? The hell did you just say?" He began to chuckle nervously, sure he wasn't understanding something and he was having a blond moment. Those were a real thing, right?

Thor tried to calm the archer with a large hand over Clint's forearm. "I realize it is shocking for you, but I can explain if you allow me."

Clint rested his elbow on a knee and covered his eyes with one hand, not being able to look at the gods without getting angry. He whirled the other hand in a gesture for Thor to continue. He wasn't sure if he was going to listen, feeling like it would just be poison dipping into his ears. It would slowly corrode away his eardrum and liquify his brain.

"My father believes Loki requires structure and discipline meted out to him in order to halt his behavior. There are qualities he lacks that would make any more outbursts and plots extinct." Thor took a breath and looked up at Loki with sadness. "Loki has been banished from Asgard and is sentenced to a life on Midgard without his magic. Father commanded that you, Hawkeye, be the one responsible for him while he learns the ways of the humans. As Loki took control of your life when he set foot in this realm, so shall you take control of his. Father found it a small recompense for your loss of free will."

Clint had set his bow on the ground and covered his face with both hands, listening to Thor in the darkness he allowed himself. "What if I don't want it?" He asked. "I don't want to be any part of this! I didn't see any big guy in the sky asking me if this was okay; tell him to take him back- put him in a fucking dungeon or something! You know we humans put our bad guys away somewhere when we catch them, right? You guys don't do that?"

"Loki has already spent time in our prisons while awaiting his sentence, and if the AllFather believed a lifetime in the dungeon would curb his appetites for power and domination then he surely would have done it." Thor bent his legs and rested his arms on his knees. "My father also threw me from Asgard when I needed to learn lessons about myself; you remember? My hammer grounded in the mud and I could scarcely move it an inch even as I tugged with all my being. That is what Odin desires to achieve here again."

Clint finally looked up and saw Loki had moved to sit on the rock by the fire, waiting. "You tell SHIELD about this, I guess?"

"Indeed. And the Widow was kind enough to reveal your location to me. She bade me vow never to tell another soul of this place though. It is your personal place away?"

"I like to think so," Clint muttered. "What did Fury say?"

Thor grunted and nodded his head, grabbing a nearby log and tossing it into the pit. It would soon catch fire from the embers and begin to give them light against the setting sun.

"He was disparate in his disbelief, but after all explanations and reassurances were made, he agreed. With reluctance."

Clint's stomach dropped and he groaned. If Director Fury agreed to this alien nonsense then he almost had no choice in the matter. "Alright, then give me the details too. What the hell am I supposed to do with him- take him to orphanages to feed the kids and make him sing in church?"

"Do as you see fit. He cannot leave your side in a distance of a quarter of a mile, and he has been stripped of all magic."

"What happens if he gets passed a quarter mile?"

"He cannot. It simply won't happen."

"And no magic."

"None," Thor nodded.

"No- no clones, no teleporting... no heals?"

Clint's last revelation gave Thor pause but he confirmed it all just the same. Thor felt he had to pounce on the thought before Clint could run away with it. "You will not kill him."

"Wanna bet on that?"

"Hawkeye, my father laid down this law and part of it was that Loki is not to be killed. By any hand." Thor looked into Clint's steely grey eyes and sighed. "I understand the need for revenge, friend. I know you hurt inside and would gladly expunge Loki for it, but know that Odin will also strike you down if you do. Loki is still my father's son."

"Not." Loki said offhandedly and became silent again.

Thor ignored his brother's disagreement.

It was quiet between them as they considered their positions and listened to the fire crackling large before them. Clint's stomach tightened and he huffed, getting up.

"Well, I'm gonna get some snacks before it turns dark; I'll be back." The archer wandered away slowly, feeling defeated and put upon. He nearly dragged his feet through the grass as he headed for the nearest blackberry bush and stood there popping berry after berry into his mouth. The night was falling and he was being bathed in the darkness while he methodically filled his belly. He turned to look in the direction of camp, a small glow of orange light in the distance and he tried to imagine sitting around that fire with just Loki at his side, Thor no longer present. He couldn't. Not without a muzzle and handcuffs. He didn't know what Thor thought Clint was going to do with the wayward god. He felt like this would take him back to the days with those opal-blue eyes, that mind control, and he shuddered at the thought. But if Clint let the rational and logical side of him think about the situation, he found that there was nothing inherently dangerous about it. Glorified babysitting is what it would be.

He came back to the camp, thinking about how he didn't like that there was some apparently all-powerful god that could make commands and decisions without checking with his 'lessers'. Just assuming the humans will obey every word he says as law because, well, he's Odin AllFather. Clint just had to bend over and take it.

Thor still sat on the grass, the hammer resting at his side and leaned for the handle to touch his thigh. Loki was also still on the rock, looking up into the dark blue skies littered with diamonds. Whether the pale god was counting them or memorizing them Clint was sure he didn't know. There was one thing he did know. He stepped up beside Loki, holding his breath for being so close the god again. He told himself he'd never get that close again unless it was to slit his throat, but apparently this was important.  
Loki noticed the lack of space between him and the archer and he looked up at him, eyes widened for the low light but still... no emotion.

Clint squinted his eyes at him. "Get out of my seat," he growled.

Loki's eyes fell downwards to the rock he sat on and then back up to Clint's eyes.

"Loki," Thor called. "Move. We are but guests in Hawkeye's camp."

Loki's breath blew hard from his nose and he moved to sit on the ground between the two. Clint took his place on the rock and stretched out his legs before him, laying the bow on the ground and unbuckling the quiver to lay it aside as well.

"Alright," Clint consented, drawing Thor's gaze. "I'll do it; not that I have much choice."

Thor looked relieved and he half-smiled at the archer. "Thank you, Hawkeye. I feel you will not regret this, no matter how you may feel about it throughout the ordeal."

Clint decided he'd had enough of today and he rose, making his way to the tent. "Yeah, well, tell daddy-dearest he needs to work on his decision making. Things like consent beforehand and shit. I'm going to bed."

Thor chuckled and leaned back on the grass. "Then I shall too bed down for the night. I will leave on the morrow. Sleep well."

"Uh-huh," Clint muttered and waved a dismissing hand behind him as he got out of his boots and climbed into the tent, out of his clothes, and into his sleeping bag. He sighed hard enough to bulge his cheeks as he stared up at the ceiling of the sleeping quarters.

"What a fucking day," he said aloud and turned over.


	4. Carried Away

The morning yielded dewey grass and chirping birds and Clint woke up with a snapping open of his eyes like he hadn't slept at all. Rested, but nothing deep. He crawled to the end of the tent and unzipped it as quietly as he could, poking his head out to check on the visiting gods. Thor was laid out on his front exactly where he had sat the night before, arms and legs splayed like a starfish and his face crushed into the grass. Loki sat with his arms folded over his knees and his head down on top of them, feet spread apart from each other to maintain balance. He didn't move when Clint pulled his clothes on and fell into his morning workout routine. When a beam of sunlight poked through the canopy of the trees and shined on Thor's face, he awoke with a groan and slowly sat up, finding Clint on the finishing pumps of his pushups.

"A good workout in the morning get the blood flowing does it not," Thor said with a smile. "Invigorates the soul."

Clint gasped as he finished his workout and sat back on his heels, looking over the god while he caught his breath. Thor had a ladybug in his hair and grass imprints on his cheek. The archer agreed to Thor's sentiment and looked over at Loki, who was looking back at him, still in his sitting position but back straightened. Clint didn't know how long he'd been awake, he'd never heard a sound from him. The thought that he'd been awake the whole time and watching made his skin prickle.

Clint stood up when Thor did, watching him tie the leather loop at the end of his battle hammer to his belt. The god stood then like he had when Clint first came upon him in the camp- hands on his hips and standing tall and proud.

"Taking off, then?"

"Yes, my duties with you are complete." He gripped Clint's shoulder just as before. "I know you will watch over my brother well, Hawkeye. He is treacherous and jealous and confused, but he is not beyond redemption. Loki will learn this and hopefully gain your forgiveness in time."

Clint pursed his lips and nodded his head in sarcastic agreement. "Mmm, well. We'll see about that. Not a very good teacher here. That's why I'm an assassin. You can tell your dad thanks for the extra baggage, but next time maybe do a background check for qualifications."

Thor chuckled and squeezed the man's shoulder before turning to the burnt grass in a far corner, black lines twirled into knots. Clint wondered how he hadn't noticed it before, been too busy with the norse gods in his campsite he guessed. Thor stood in the middle of the ring of design and called out for transport, and in a literal flash he was gone.

Leaving Clint in a forest far away from civilization with Loki only. Clint glanced at the god left by his fire and then turned away, grabbing his bow and quiver and walking away into the forest. Loki stayed where he was, watching him go. It wasn't a long walk before Clint found and killed his breakfast, having only ate berries for dinner the night before. He came back with another dead rabbit in hand and went through the process of skinning and skewering it, roasting it over the fire with the last of the juniper berries he had picked and some other spices. While it cooked, Loki stared into the fire and Clint stared at him.

"Thinking of what to do with me?" Loki asked lowly in his throat, feeling Clint's gaze.

"Yep, and none of it's looking very good for you."

"Hm," Loki grunted and looked up at his keeper. "I would expect not."

"So I'll die if I kill you, right? What happens if you try to kill me? You don't have your magic stuff, it might be pretty tough for you- you gonna go to prison if you kill me?"  
"I will die alongside you."

Clint blinked in surprise and scoffed. "Really?"

"It is Odin's way of forcing me to cooperate. Though your life matters nought to me if I decide killing myself is the best way to deal with this."

Clint watched his face carefully, finding not much, which set him on edge. There had emotion all over Loki's face during his invasion, Clint remembered. But not now. "What's wrong with you?"

Loki looked back up from the fire. "Many things, apparently."

"I mean right now; you're acting weird. Silent. Emotionless. It's honestly freakier than the bloodlust look you used to have."

The god sneered at the archer, finally changing his face. "I may act however I feel."

"So, you feel lifeless," Clint surmised.

"I feel like I should stake one of your precious arrows through your heart!" Loki barked.

Clint looked impressed by the gods outburst and he glanced at the roasting rabbit, feeling like it could use a couple more minutes on the spit. He rose slowly from his stone seat and prowled around the fire, watching Loki leaning back to see him come.

"You wanna talk about feelings?" He reached back to pull an arrow out of his quiver and he held it up between them, watching Loki's green eyes flicker to it and back up. Clint looked at Loki with feigned innocence and saw the god become wary of the situation, trying to lean away from him without drawing attention to the movement. Clint noticed it anyway and lunged for him, grabbing the gods face and shoving him to the ground. The gods hand went up to throw him off and Clint drove his arrow straight through it, driving the wood into the grass and dirt. Loki quelled his cry of pain behind his teeth and squeezed Clint's throat with the other hand while the archer raised his fist and pounded it across the god's face as he choked him in return. He pummeled until the skin broke over both Loki's face and Clint's knuckles. Blood leaked out of the god's cheek and nose and mingled with Clint's and their visions blurred into nothing but color as they choked each other. When Clint finally ran out of steam with his punches and loosened his grip on Loki's throat, the god reciprocated and their arms fell limp at their sides. Clint sat heavy on Loki's chest and panted with fading adrenaline, fingers sliding up the shaft of the arrow that pierced Loki's hand into the ground. He gripped it and pushed it further in, listening to Loki hiss at the slide of the wood and watching with a sick fascination as the hand twitched like a spider in its death-throws. The archer looked down into Loki's eyes and found the god watching him too, no anger or fear apparent. Just staring up with a slight frown and gathering his breath from the beatings.

"How did that feel?" Clint whispered condescendingly. For a moment he felt like he'd said it to Winchester, unable to count how many times the doctor had asked him that very question.

Loki didn't answer. Clint climbed off him all the same, taking the arrow with him and smiling to himself at Loki's groan as it slid out of his hand. He checked over the rabbit on the fire and made a pleased sound when he found it ready. He pulled up the spit and gently peeled a leg off the body, giving it a testing nibble. He hummed with satisfaction.  
Loki had sat up again and he caught the hot hunk of meat when Clint gave him a heads up and tossed it at him. The god rested his arm over his folded legs and let his skewered hand dangle limply over the grass, slowly dripping blood onto the greenery. He tiredly chewed at the offered meat in silence.

Clint gnawed at the rabbit right off the body, feeling a little like a wild man with the juices running down his chin and blood drying on his split knuckles. He threw Loki another leg when he'd eaten the first one down to the bone. Loki ate this one too, breathing through his mouth between bites and regularly wiping the drooling blood of his wounds off his lip. He was going to bruise a rainbow for sure.

Clint set the spit on the ring of rocks after he'd had his fill and he found his canteen and filled it up, knowing Loki was watching. Well, now he knew where the water was. The archer rinsed the blood off his knuckles while he was there and let it dry on its own. He sat back down and drank.

"Well, I feel better," he declared and Loki looked at him with disdain. "Think it's safe to say that'll be the only beating you'll get from me- I'm tired of hating you."

"Don't I feel special," Loki deadpanned.

Clint ignored him. "When you're done eating, you can wash out your hand. I'll give you some gauze."

Loki tossed the bones of the rabbit legs behind him and rose to do just that. "I don't require your human treatments."

He bent to inspect the rubber nozzle he'd seen Clint use and he tested it before cupping his injured hand under the pour of water. He lifted the hand to his face to wash away the blood and looked confused for a moment when no water touched his cheek. Clint watched him and spit out his drink of water in a bark of laughter. The water had funneled right through the hole in the god's hand. Loki growled at the hilarity Clint found in his misery and moved to put his back to the archer, continuing his washing with a different method.

The blood had been washed to the grass and Loki stood at the watering hole staring into his hand, at the ground he could see through it. Small, but still a hole through his flesh and muscle. He heard movement behind him and jumped, turning to see Clint swiping through his pack and bringing out medical supplies. He took it back to his rock and started wiping a thick ointment over his split knuckles and he grimaced at the sting. He wrapped a bandage around his hand and clipped it tight, gently trying to flex his hand. The archer looked over at Loki suddenly.

"Sure you don't want some of this?"

Loki turned to fully face him, hands down at his sides. "As I said before-"

"Yeah, yeah: primitive human, crappy medical stuff. I guess if you want the bugs crawling into your veins that's your choice. You'll get a lot of that out here." He looked at Loki expectantly but the god made no move to accept his offer. He scoffed and shook his head, leaving the first aid tin on the grass.

He smirked to himself when he saw Loki look at the hole in his hand with concern out of the corner of his eye. Of course there was nothing like that out here that could crawl into his skin, but it never hurt to give him a little scare. Clint got up and picked up his bow and quiver as he slowly started walking into the trees. Loki's eyes followed him warily.

"Hope you can hike in that shit," Clint called back. "You interrupted my tracking yesterday. Let's move out."

He heard Loki slowly fall in step behind him and he felt a tightening in his chest. His words and the feel of the god walking behind him was too familiar and he had to take deep, silent breaths to keep himself from hyperventilating again.

Loki made no complaints as they ventured deeper into the forest, keeping a few yards behind Clint. He stopped when Clint did, reluctantly took drink from the canteen when it was offered to him, asked no questions. Though he did watch the archer with odd curiosity, not missing the significance of their positions. It had been often that Clint would scout ahead of Loki and lead him to and fro during the invasion.

They walked for hours, and when Clint suddenly looked up at the sun and cursed, he turned on his heel and told Loki they were heading back. He didn't fancy tripping through the forest in the dark with the god on his heels. They made it to the camp with another kill in hand, and Loki reluctantly carrying wild onions and mushrooms Clint had hooted about when found. He made sure to stuff the vegetables into the cut open cavity of the animal and sewed it shut with half-assed stitches and put it high over the fire. Loki rinsed his hands of the dirt from the raw veggies and began to walk away into the growing shadows of the forest again.

"Where're you going?" Clint demanded to know, sitting on his rock and sharpening a couple small sticks with his knife.

Loki stopped to lay on the archer an irritated scowl. "Nature beckons."

Clint tilted his head in understanding. He could appreciate that. "You know how do to that all by yourself? Make sure you cover."

Loki turned away with a roll of his eyes. "I know how to defecate in the woods, Agent Barton."

Clint chuckled and yelled at his back as the god disappeared in the dark. "You say that, but I'll bet you don't have poison ivy in Asgard!" 

Clint and Loki shared the meal again, no words between them. Clint moaned at the taste of the added veggies in the meal and Loki rolled his eyes but kept his comments to himself. The archer winced every once in a while when he bent his fingers, but they hadn't bled any more. He changed the bandage just this once. Loki still left his own hand in the open air, and Clint noticed he hadn't used the hand to hold the onions and mushrooms. Didn't want dirt smushed into his wound. His cheek was bruised, the skin split open at the top of his cheek bone, and there was a slight tear over the bridge of his nose too. Not openly bleeding anymore though.

When Clint announced he was going to bed, he left Loki by the fire and crawled into his tent, and he turned towards the side with the boulder rather than face the bright glow of the flames through the fabric. He hoped a bear would walk through the camp and drag Loki away to its cave as he fell asleep, just so he wouldn't have to see him the next day. He hoped that this had just been some fevered dream, flashbacks of his days under Loki's thumb mixed up with his vacation. He knew it wouldn't be so.

In the morning, Clint went about his usual routine- he crawled out of the one-man tent and did his workout, spying Loki lying on his side in the grass, asleep. He needed to shower again, it had been a few days and he was sweaty from all the hikes he'd taken, but with the god a few yards away, even though he was asleep... At least during the invasion Loki'd never seen him naked. He wondered if they did such a thing as communal bathing in Agard, or was that an ancient Roman thing? He couldn't remember. In the end he decided that Loki was no threat to him, and if the god woke up while Clint was still showering, maybe his naked form would embarrass him. He wouldn't let the undesirable situation put a damper on his trip and he showered in full view, finding that, while the water was still freezing cold from the night-time air, the mornings seemed to be getting hotter and the temperature was a relief. He bent his head and let the water run down the back of his neck and down his spine in tiny streams. He knew he'd have to refill the bag sooner with how much water he was going to use, but it felt too nice. He did release the rubber spigot though, and he shaved, and dressed, finding Loki awake as he pulled his boots on. He jerked his head in the direction of the water bag.

"Wanna shower? Soap's in there, shampoo too, I just never use it."

Loki squinted at the archer but he went to it and inspected the shower kit. He looked back and forth between it and the bag and then he looked at Clint. The blond raised his hands up in surrender.

"I can look away if you want privacy. I'm gonna get some fruit." And as he said, he sauntered away and gathered two handfuls of blackberries. By the time he got back, Loki's hair was dripping at its ends and he was dressed, but the very edge of his pants were dark with water spillage. The god wrung out his black locks with a twist of his hands and combed it with his fingers. Loki's damaged hand had a nice white wrapping around the palm. So he'd taken the archer's offer for protection, but wanted privacy for it. Clint eyed Loki's damp pants and shoved the entire handful of berries in his mouth. He could understand a simple hair washing. When the hair got greasy enough it could be moved to stick in weird directions, ones it didn't usually go in. And when your body didn't feel dirty, a good face and hair wash would make you feel like a million bucks.

Clint threw a log on the fire and sat on his rock. "So..." He let the word hang between them but Loki didn't pick it up. The god wandered the perimeter of the camp, looking up at the leaves.

"Dad wants you to learn some lessons down here?"

Loki didn't look back at the archer as he plucked a bright green leaf off a low hanging branch and eyed it. "He's not my father."

"Alright, Odin then, yeah?"

"Yes," Loki said and promptly took a bite out of the leaf and chewed thoughtfully. Clint's eyebrows shot up as he watched him. Loki looked down at the leaf suddenly and hummed with curiosity.

"...Alright," Clint was slightly disgusted by the choice of food Loki had taken. "What are you supposed to be learning here? Did you get a list or is this some kind of Hercules get-into-Olympus-when-you're-a-true-hero thing?"

"You realize that I have no idea what you speak of."

"Yeah, I kinda figured."

"I was given no list." Loki moved along to each tree in the perimeter, skipping his scrutinizing when it was one he'd already looked at. He sampled the leaves of every new tree he came across.

"So you could be here forever."

Loki sighed, tired of the conversation. He came back to the fire pit and sat in the grass, fingering the few red blades stained by his blood. "It's possible."

"You don't sound too upset."

"That would be because you are not worthy of my feelings on the matter."

"I think as your 'handler' I need to know certain things: if you're going to cooperate and try to make Daddy happy, or if you're going to flip him the bird and waste my entire life looking after you."

Loki scowled. "You need not 'look after me' as though I were a child. I am fully capable of taking care of myself. I only need stay within a distance of you, that is all."

"So you're going to try the redemption thing."

The god expelled a breath through his nose and stared down at the ground. His eyes became hard and he looked a little embarrassed. "I need not try to raise myself to Odin's expectations-" he said quietly- "I am a different man from the one he knew. One that would accept any punishment if it meant I wouldn't have to see my so-called 'family' again."

Clint considered Loki and wondered what could've been so bad that he would forsake his own family, and even go so far as to disown them. He'd seen the footage from Iron Man when Thor and Loki had argued on the edge of a cliff, when the pale god had declined to include himself as Odin's son. Clint wondered why he himself never changed his last name after he moved out of his parent's house. After his father threw the last punch that broke the camel's back. He kept the name for his mother, he realized, who'd stayed behind. It would break her heart if he ditched his Barton name.

"They fuck you pretty hard, huh?"

Loki twitched at the words and continued to look away. "My entire existence is a lie. A lie built by Odin and Frigga who would raise me to call them Mother and Father though it is far from reality."

"Hm. I used to hate my family too. Except my Mom, I could never hate her."

"Oh, yes, please share what atrocities could have possibly been committed by your unwholesome family," Loki drawled, rolling his eyes.

"My dad beat me," Clint divulged, and Loki looked up at him with his eyebrows knit together. He hadn't expected that. "It was alright for a while, like, uh- it stopped for a while when I was in middle school and for most of high school, but before and after that... Well. Mom always tried to stop him, but there's not much a little lady like her can do against a guy like him. At least he never touched her. He couldn't- he loved her. Sometimes blood isn't the barrier that keeps the bad shit away- it's true love. Sounds fucking stupid, that someone would beat his son and then make love to his wife, but... I guess those things just happen."

Loki looked disturbed by Clint's story. "Did you kill him?"

"What- No! I moved out. I left and never went back. I joined SHIELD."

"And with every man you eliminate, you picture your father's face over theirs."

Clint's shoulders sagged and he touched his thumbs to his brow line. "I used to," he admitted.

"Why did you stop?"

"Because I got over it. It took a long time- I went through a little therapy outside of SHIELD and I called my mom to tell her I was alive, but I was able to stop hating him eventually. Doesn't mean I'll be going home any time soon though."

Loki had a perplexed expression on his face and he said he couldn't understand how Clint could just forgive and forget. But Clint hadn't done either of those. You could forgive, if you wanted to, but you never really forgot- you only moved beyond it. You can say you're okay until you're blue in the face, but until you can talk about a horror like it was yesterday's news, you're not fooling anyone but yourself. Oh that scar? It's just from when I plunged my hand into this guys chest- jagged broken ribs from impact, you know. When you fight the pain, fight the fear, and the ocean of reality crashes in your face like hard waves off the perimeter of your island of not-okay, you never think it could be so easy as to let yourself sink, and then swim right under it.

Loki wasn't sure that he could ever move past what his family had done to him. And he wasn't sure that he wanted to try. There was no forgetting.  
The two sat in silence while they thought about their pasts, one where he knew what wrong was being done, and one who didn't know until the shiny golden casing eroded with the pressure of time.

"Well," Clint interjected their thoughts and gathered his weapon. "Let's keep tracking while there's still daylight- I want to see a bear before my trip's done." 

No bear was seen, but the duo did find a silver fox by which Loki was awed. Clint had laughed and told him they were pretty regular. They headed back to camp with full bellies of berries and, in Loki's case, leaves and flowers. He was close to pulling a stinging nettle out of the ground and popping it in his mouth before Clint swatted it out of his hand. The look of indignant rage on Loki's face at the slap made Clint point a finger in his face.

"Don't get pissed off at me- I just saved your ass from hours of pain!"

He explained the plant and it's effects and while Loki looked impressed but still questioned the pain, Clint picked up a fresh one and smacked it across the top of Loki's good hand. When the skin broke out in welts and itched painfully, Loki yelled at the archer who began walking away quickly. 

They sat around the fire again as the sun set and Clint told him the trip was coming to an end. He'd be going back to New York the day after next. Loki looked lost and apprehensive at the information, staring at him through the heat distortion above the flames.

"What?" Clint grunted.

"What will become of me there?"

Clint shrugged and chewed on his dinner. "You'll start learning your lessons? I don't know. What ever the hell you want to do I guess."

"I only have a small distance from you available. What could I possibly do?"

"Guess you'll figure it out. I thought you said you were capable of taking care of yourself. I don't give a crap what you do as long as it's not killing or maiming or mind controlling or whatever. I'm not your mom, I'm not gonna keep track of you."

When he went to bed, staring up at the crease of his tent roof, he wanted to kick himself. What was he going to do with Loki in New York? He only had a distance of a quarter mile to be separated by. He couldn't leave the god at the SHIELD headquarters unless he wanted to live there himself, which he refused to do. Nobody knew about Charles except Natasha; no way was he going to let anyone else know he had a fish. He wondered what was going to happen when he got back to civilization. Fury had agreed to this, if Thor's word was anything to go by, but how? Why? Clint rolled onto his side and forced himself to be quiet and sleep. 

A soft pitter-patter was tapping on the tent, waking Clint slowly. When the grogginess left him a little more coherent he recognized the sound as rain. He unzipped the front of the tent enough to poke his head out, watching the droplets fall in pale streaks against the night sky. He scanned the area and found Loki missing. He pulled his head back into the tent and smacked his hand to his forehead, groaning. The archer quickly dressed and stood in the downpour, looking around the perimeter once more. The dregs of the fire barely illuminated the area, but it was enough to discern the god was still not there. Clint dug through his pack and brought out a flashlight and he marched into the forest with it, boots squeaking in the wet grass. He shined the light through the darkness, walking a large circle around the camp. Against the light, pairs of eyes would glow and then look away as the creatures scurried to their safe and dry holes.

"Loki?" Clint said. He didn't yell, there was only so far the god could go. He kept walking, starting to shiver from the cold rain dropping on him. The shoulders of his coat were soaked, and his hair weighed down on his head. He wiped the water out of his eyes and sighed.

"Loki." He said again after walking another distance. Still nothing. Clint balled his hands onto fists, frustrated that he had to keep track of the god when he'd just said he wouldn't be doing that. He clicked his tongue and went back to camp, thinking if the god wanted to dance around in the freezing rain then he could do as he pleased. He came up to the camp with the fire pit between him and the tent and he stood near the flames, looking down at the bloodied grass that was being cleansed in the rain. He bent down close to the ground, making sure not to set his knee on the wet grass and he sighed again, looking across to the tent, and watching the flysheet get pelted by the rain. When he looked at the back end of the tent he saw a dark mass just under the edge of the sheet. Clint clicked the flashlight on again and shined it at the mass, revealing leather clad feet.

The flashlight clicked off and Clint hung his head, shaking it back and forth as he chuckled. He went to the tent and lifted the stake that held the back end of the flysheet down, revealing Loki huddled inside, knees up and face hidden between his arms. The god looked up tiredly, moving his damp-wavy hair away from his face. Clint shined the flashlight at the ground to see him.

"Your ass wet yet?" He asked with a smirk.

Loki laid his head back down on his arms. "Yes."

"Mm-hmm. Ever had a cold before?"

The god sighed. He was tired and cold and wet, not wanting to answer random questions by a human. "Yes."

"Then you know what's gonna happen to you after a night like this. Wanna be dry and cold or wet and cold?"

"What is the point of my preference? I would think you know the answer."

"I'm asking because you can either stay out here and soak, or get in the tent."

Loki was silent given his choices. Clint shrugged and shoved the stake back into the ground, separating the two with the flysheet again.

"Alright then," Clint muttered and crawled back into the tent, leaving his wet clothes hanging on the rope that held up the flysheet. They'd get a nice wash overnight and dry in the sun. He shimmied into the sleeping bag in his shorts and breathed deep. He was barely awake when he felt Loki cautiously enter the tent and lie down. When the archer fell asleep, he dreamed that night. Usually if he did dream they consisted of a lot of flying. A lot of falling. Either way, it was always exhilarating.  
He still flew, standing on the open hatch of a quinjet and watching the helicarrier float before him. He went to grip his bow and was stunned to find it gone from his hand. Confused, he glared at the helicarrier like it was somehow its fault, the image getting blurry from the wind in his eyes. He felt lips at his ear and didn't startle, just barely turning his head towards the voice that whispered,

" _Monsters and magic_."

He knew who it was, he could see those red lips, even though he really couldn't see them. Natasha. He felt a pull in his chest, hopelessness, and he sighed, looking back at the helicarrier.

"I gotta flush him out," Clint said softly.

" _We don't have that long_."

And then the fall came, pushed out of the quinjet to fall to into the harsh smack of the ocean. But the dark blue of the deep waters formed solid into the wet, shining concrete walls of the underground lab. Crates and tubes of wiring scattered everywhere. There was only one figure before Clint then, completely blacked out by the blazing blue light behind them. The Tesseract, he knew, though he couldn't see it. The blackened silhouette made no moves and Clint wasn't fearful, but he felt like maybe he should have been. When glowing blue eyes suddenly opened from the shadowed person, tesseract blue, Clint knew he recognized this one too.

" _What do you need_?" Loki asked.

Clint opened his mouth to answer, but his throat caught, realizing he had no answer. Those blue-opal eyes squinted at him, something daring in them. Something passionate and goading. Clint choked as he tried to answer, seeming as if his tongue had slid back into his throat until he coughed it out.

He coughed himself into the waking world, on his back and choking on his own saliva in a deep snore. The archer snapped awake and hacked out the blockage, sitting up on one arm. Loki sat in the tent by the open flaps, looking up and out into the world. Clint groaned and rubbed his face.

"It's still raining," Loki murmured.

Clint hummed and flopped back onto the ground. "That happens a lot around here. S'why the trees are so big." He gazed up at the top of the tent, thinking about his dream. "Get any sleep?"

"Some." Loki sounded melancholy.

Clint thought be remembered the god sliding in beside him during the night, but it was all very vague. The dream had overpowered him. In a fleeting thought he wondered what he had been going to say to his dream master, and decided that it was best he not know. Instead, he considered their options for the day, and they were slim due to the heavy downpour. They'd most likely stay in the tent and eat the stash of granola bars in his bag. He liked the idea, he could use a down day. Loki sounded like he could use one too. The god watched the rain beating down on the world, bending blades of grass and tossing the leaves of the trees around. He leaned on the ground with his hip, legs folded beside him. Clint laid his head back down and closed his eyes, hearing the pitter-patter of the rain on the tent.

"You okay, sir?"

The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. Clint's eyes flew open and his stomach dropped. He didn't dare look at Loki, thinking he would find that knowing, smug smirk. It was the dream, he knew. The dream had put him back in that place, and with Loki beside him in the real world- the smell of the water, the smell of the leather; he knew that was why he'd said it. Why he'd dreamt it. Clint pushed the anger down that was trying to swell inside him, wanting to kick Loki out of the tent and into the rain and make him freeze to death. But he wouldn't, he couldn't.

Loki spoke softly and without contempt when he answered him.

"I despise inadvertent remarks. They are never what you mean them to be. Yet they fall out of your mouth too easily and serve to embarrass you in front of those you'd need most to not be seen as reprehensible. Fortunately for you, I realize that your words are merely that- a slip of the tongue. I won't fault you for it, Agent Barton."

Clint said nothing in return, settling for throwing his arm over his eyes and huffing. Thunder echoed in the distance and Loki turned his head towards the sound. The archer clicked his tongue and sat up, grabbing his phone and sending a text to Natasha.

 _Open to jetting us back early? Wanna get home now_.

She responded almost immediately, before Clint could set the phone down.

 _Us. So you both survived... OMW. ETA 1100_.

Clint looked at his watch- three hours. He looked at Loki who had turned some to find the source of the beeping noises that were the text messages. Loki looked up at Clint and the archer answered his unasked question.

"Natasha's picking us up in three hours."

Loki turned back to the rain. "I see."

"Yep, so move, I gotta get dressed." He squeezed past Loki and dug around in his pack for dry clothes and whipped them on, rolling up his wet ones left outside and stuffing them in a plastic pouch. He pulled back the long flap of the flysheet that served as their front porch.

"Know how to roll up a sleeping bag?"

Loki looked surprised and he glanced at the aforementioned bag. "I suppose I could learn..."

"Alright, well, you figure it out, I'll start breaking down camp."

The filter bag of water was dumped out over the embers of the fire and had some dirt kicked onto it for good measure. He unfolded a few more clear plastic pouches and used one for the water bag and shower kit and sealed it, stuffing it into the pack. In the tent, Clint found Loki tying up the sleeping bag and he tossed him its cover, waterproof of course, and the god struggled to stuff it in. Clint had to help. Then he gathered his bow and quiver, moving them and the pack under the semi-dry cover of the trees before going back to the tent and taking it down. He directed the god where to help fold and roll, and the tent and pegs were stowed away in another waterproof pouch. The tent and sleeping bag, while they did fit into the pack just fine, Loki was made to carry. They were light and had their own straps to hold, so he didn't feel burdened. Clint shouldered the pack and wielded his bow and quiver as he lead the way through the forest to the pick up point. They walked briskly, always staying close to the trunks of the trees to be out of the worst of the rain. When the field was reached they stayed along the tree-line, waiting for the quinjet. They looked up into the skies, Clint watching for the jet and Loki just watching. The sky was layered in dark grey clouds, still pouring buckets of water. Lightning began to snap across the clouds, quick and pale, with barely-there thunder in its wake.

"Never been able to appreciate thunder and lightning because of him, huh?" Clint guessed. "Most people love it."

"It is refreshing not to have him yelling in my ear about some slight brought to him. That is one good mark for your planet; thunder almost never means Thor."

The archer chuckled. "Yeah, at least we got that going for us. There she is." The quinjet appeared as a tiny black speck amongst the grey and grew until it landed in the middle of the field. The hatch opened in the back.

"Let's go." Clint said and the two hustled through the rain and into the jet.

Clint showed Loki where to stow the gear and reminded him how to strap himself into the seats, much to Loki's annoyance. Natasha watched their interactions with bland interest, catching Loki's eye. With the god safely secured, Clint closed the hatch and went up to the cockpit, slapping the redhead on the shoulder.

"Thanks, Nat."

"Sure. How was your trip?" Natasha lifted the jet off the ground and they started on their way back to New York.

"Great until he showed up." Clint jerked a thumb in the direction of the dark haired god.

Natasha hummed. "He's wounded," She said simply, having noticed the bandage wrapped around Loki's hand and the cuts and bruises on his face.

Clint leaned back in the copilot's chair. "Yeah."

The pilot nodded and understood. The quinjet shook a little with the high winds and a flash of lightning spidered through the clouds above them. Loki jiggled in his chair with the turbulence and muttered,

"Well, this feel familiar."


	5. Can I Go Now

The quinjet landed on the roof of SHIELD headquarters and Clint unbuckled himself from the co-pilot's chair.

"Does Fury know I'm coming back early?"

"He doesn't know you were gone." Natasha supplied.

Clint smiled. "That's a nice feeling."

Loki had already unstrapped himself and went about releasing the pack and the rolls of tent and sleeping bag. He pulled Clint's bow and quiver out of their holders. Clint went to the back to help him gather the gear and panic ran through him at the sight of the bow in Loki's hand.

"Hey!"

Loki whirled around, weapons in one hand and the pack in the other.

Clint stormed up to the god and snatched the bow out of his hand, holding it up inches from Loki's face. "Do not touch this bow. This is mine, okay? There's no other like it and no one else gets to touch it." He waved the bow at the redhead who was getting out of her seat. "Not even Nat gets to touch it, get me?"

Loki had stretched his neck back at the forcefulness of Clint's outburst, looking slightly confused. He nodded jerkily in agreement. "Of course," he bowed his head slightly. "Forgive me."

Clint gave him a look of warning and puffed out the rest of his anger, wrenching the pack from Loki's hand and walking past him out of the hatch.

Natasha passed by him as well, beckoning him follow. "He's right," she admitted. "I've never touched it."

They exited the quinjet and closed the hatch, walking to the stairwell.

"I'd suggest the stairs all the way to the garage- you'll get nothing but questions otherwise," she said.

Clint sighed. "Yeah, thanks."

They walked down the steps together, footsteps echoing on and on, until the came to a floor where Natasha bid them goodbye, and the archer and the god finished the flights of stairs alone. Clint's motorcycle was where he left it, shining black and purple clouds of space under it's 'Indian' label. The helmet handing off the handlebar matched the paint job. He set the pack on the ground and took the sacks from Loki, fitting them into the pack where they belonged and then turned the god around and helped him shoulder it on.

"Here's how this is gonna work," Clint said, strapping on the quiver over his back and hooking his bow around it. "I'm gonna get on, and you'll get on behind me in the same way. Keep your feet on these pegs," he pointed to the rubber and metal cylinders sticking out on both sides of the bike. "When I stop and put my feet on the ground, you keep your feet on the pegs."

Loki nodded at the instructions, scrutinizing the vehicle and hiking the pack higher on his back. Clint slipped the helmet on, flipping up the dark visor. From his jacket he pulled his sunglasses and handed them to the god. Loki put them on and frowned.

"This feels very strange," he said.

"Gonna feel even worse in a minute. Come on." He mounted the bike and waved Loki on, who copied his movements hesitantly, sitting as far back from the driver as he could. Clint didn't say anything about it, glad he didn't have to express his wish not to have the god's body pressed up against his back. Clint tilted the bike upright and kicked it on, letting it roar to life under their bodies, vibrating up to their chests. The archer reached behind him and grabbed Loki's hands, pulling them onto his hips.

"Hold on to me right here at all times."

"Must I?"

"Yes," Clint snapped. "I know it's weird for you; it's weird for me too, but it's that or fall off and skin yourself alive on the pavement. Your pick."

Loki pursed his lips and dug the fingers of his good hand into Clint's hip. "It seems your hips are more than adequate handholds."

"I thought so." Clint faced forward again and shouted above the growling of the motorcycle. "When I lean to turn, lean with me, but don't get crazy about it."

"I feel like this is a dangerous mode of transportation," Loki complained.

Clint laughed. "Why do you think I ride it?" He slid down the visor and flipped up the kickstand, revving the engine a second before steering it through the garage. 

Clint took no dangerous moves with the bike for this trip because of his passenger. He kept within the speed limit and obeyed all traffic laws, keeping it simple and as unnerve-wracking as possible.

Loki kept a steel grip on Clint's hips, squeezing to the point of painful when a bump in the road jolted them. But the ride was long and soon he was able to relax enough to look around, watching the world fly by them in streaks of color. He smelled different kinds of smoke, he smelled food, flowers. When they stopped at lights, he watched the people, crammed onto the sidewalks and streaming across the streets on the crosswalks. He looked at them with slight contempt and a little curiosity. He resigned himself to the fact that he was to be one of them now. None of them even looked his way; they didn't know who he was. They didn't care.

He looked up at the buildings as they whizzed by. Different styles, materials; Loki couldn't understand the incongruity of the humans. None of them dressed with any kind of similarity either. They were like a hundred different realms crushed into one, forced to live together and get along. He watched the skies curiously too, filled with the metal birds that took people to and fro over the planet. He watched distractedly and loosely until the motorcycle skidded to a sudden halt, wheels squealing against the pavement and throwing Loki against the quiver Clint wore, forcing the breath out of him. Clint shouted behind his helmet and made wild arm movements at a pedestrian in the middle of the street, only feet away from the bike.

"Get the fuck out of the road, dipshit!"

"Fuck you, man, I'm walking here! Don't you know how to use your fucking eyes?" The pedestrian yelled back, flipping Clint his middle finger and crossing to the other side of the street.

"Fucking dick," Clint muttered and shook his head, jolting the bike back up to speed. He turned his head some to see Loki's face right behind his shoulder. He'd wrapped his arms around the archer's waist with the scare of the sudden stop, chest still crushed against the quiver. His eyes were wide, clearly visible even behind the sunglasses.

"Shit your pants?"

Loki shook his head in total confusion. "What?"

Clint chuckled and thought the god hadn't heard him. "You okay back there?"

"Are we near?"

"Yeah, not far."

It wasn't much further, only a couple streets away from Clint's, and when he pulled up to the curb and kicked down the stand he told Loki to dismount. The god nearly slid out off the seat like he was made of jelly, legs numb from the vibration of the bike. Clint got of the motorcycle behind him and held the god by his elbow.

"It'll wear off," he assured, leading him onto the sidewalk.

Loki stopped and steadied himself, taking deep breaths and flexing the muscles of his calves where he stood. He looked up at the building in front of them in the meantime, taking in its red-brown painted bricks and its columns of narrow white windows. Some of them were open, a potted plant sitting on the windowsill of one, and a girl fanning herself on a ledge in shorts and bikini top in another. She glanced down at them and didn't smile when she made eye contact with the god. She looked away disinterestedly.  
Clint was calling Loki from the door of the building, pulling his attention away from the details. He followed the archer up and into his apartment, shocked by the sparseness of it. He dropped the pack by the door and watched Clint hang the beaded bow on the left wall, quiver set on the floor in the corner. Clint turned around to face the god and he shrugged.

"Home, sweet home," he said. "I guess, uh... Make yourself at home, look around. Rules of the house are: you sleep on the couch."

Loki nodded and they stood there in silence, neither looking at the other. Clint fidgeted and then took a sudden deep breath.

"Yeah, have fun." He moved passed the god and into the kitchen, opening the window and grunting in disappointment when he didn't find the woman across the alley. He stood at the window and breathed in the warm air anyway, feeling it swish around him and into the apartment, mixing up the dust. He heard Loki's boots on the tile and turned to see what he was inspecting first. It was Charles.

Loki closed in on the fish curiously, watching it nibble at the plant. He looked up at Clint.

"You never told me you owned a fish." He seemed very confused at it's presence.

Clint snorted. "You never asked. Don't think pets were a very important part to the invasion."

"Indeed." Loki leaned away from the fish and regarded it with a tilted head before he moved away, opening all the drawers and cabinets in the kitchen and touring the refrigerator. Clint let him wander and sat on the couch, texting Natasha he arrived home safely with the god.

He felt so strange letting his former master prowl his apartment to his pleasure, like the invasion of Earth had ended, but not with Loki's loss. Nor with Loki's win. He was just... there. The urge to serve the god was gone but that was the only difference in his interaction with him. He could say and do whatever he wanted.

Loki moved on from the kitchen and crossed the living room, disappearing down the alcove to Clint's bedroom and bathroom. He heard his dresser drawers being opened and closed, including the closet. The bathroom apparently required the most scrutiny though, he stayed in there a while. When he returned from the bathroom he stood in the living room staring at his host.

"Are these your only rooms?"

"Not everyone lives in a palace," Clint scoffed. "I'm not here much anyways." He stood up then and handed the god the remote control to the television. "Here. Figure this out- I'm gonna put the camp stuff out to dry on the roof." He picked up the pack and headed out the door, leaving the god inside alone.

Returning with a mostly empty bag, all the wet items drying in the sun on the roof, Clint found Loki where he thought he might be. On the couch, with the TV on. He smirked and went about putting away the rest of the gear, joining Loki on the couch when he was finished. The god was watching the news, learning about the death of a teenager by the hand of a serial killer.

"I was merely a common killer in the eyes of your people, was I not?" Loki spoke sadly, eyes never leaving the screen.

Clint nodded slowly, half agreeing. "Kind of. I mean your invasion destroyed buildings and things too though so... maybe more like a terrorist. You wanted to destroy our way of life."

"I would not have been such a terrible ruler," Loki said.

"You sawed out a man's eyeball in the middle of a fancy party. We could have just as easily kidnapped him and put his eye to the scanner."

"I believe you are the one who supplied me with that device," Loki argued. "And where's the fun in a simple kidnapping of a simple human?"

Clint waved his hand in the air. "Yeah, I know, you like a spectacle. You're a 'go big or go home' kind of guy. I know the chaos was part of the plan so you could get into the helicarrier and all that."

"Then what are we contesting here?"

"That you would've been a tyrant and we don't like all-encompassing, one-man rulers."

They glared at each other and then settled for watching the TV again, spending the rest of the afternoon there, flipping channels when it got boring. They nibbled at the good stuff left in the fridge, some fruit and cheese, and then Clint announced he was going to bed. He pulled a blanket out of the closet and threw it on Loki's lap and left him in the bright flashing lights of the TV.

Clint shut the door to his bedroom and undressed, sliding into the small bed and groaning happily when he smelled the cool scent of his pillow. He buried his face in it and sighed. He heard the voices of the television abruptly silenced and the couch gently squeaked with Loki's settling into it.


	6. Drowning

Clint awoke leisurely in the morning, nuzzling his face into the pillow and humming, slowing realizing he was rubbing his hips into the bed. Through his sleepy haze he smiled lazily and skimmed his fingers over the thin skin of the hollow of his hips before slipping his hand into his shorts. He turned fully on his back and ran his fingers around the base of his length before gripping it fully and giving it a long, hard stroke. He hummed happily again and ran a hand through his hair, continuing to rub himself off, his thumb getting wet from the tip with every stroke. Clint moaned through closed lips and finished quickly, his come wetting his shorts and hand. When the high of his orgasm finally dissipated, he pulled his hand out of his boxers and cursed. Had to shower.

He climbed out of the bed and pulled off the soiled underwear, padding with bare feet into the bathroom, where he started a hot shower. That was something he was always glad to come home to- hot water. He showered quickly and went back into his room to get dressed, finally able to wear casual civilian clothes rather than his tactical gear or rough camping clothes. He went into the living room sock-footed and stopped short when he saw Loki on the couch. He was sleeping still, curled up to fit between the arm rests with the blanket pulled up to his shoulders. Clint realized then he'd never seen the god sleep before all this. He seen it at the camp, knew he slept beside him in the tent, but never before. Loki didn't have the bags under his eyes he'd had during the invasion. Sunken in and almost bruised looking.

It had been the Tesseract's control. They never slept then. There was no need with the tesseract's power fueling their minds. Clint remembered not even knowing what the word 'sleep' meant at the time. He saw the bags under every man's eyes whose were the same blue-opal color. But never quite so severe as Loki's had been. Even though the god's eyes hadn't been so color-contact blue as the rest of his team, he'd been under some kind of control from the cube. Maybe not so much as Clint's brainwashing, but something like fueling the desires and hates that already existed in the god's heart. Fueled to the point of madness. He'd looked better by the time he met the Avengers and was consequently captured, but until then he'd looked like death. Clint didn't know how long Loki had been under the Tesseract's control, but it must have been a while. Now, Loki was fresh-faced, but considerably less snarky. Clint wasn't sure which one he preferred more.

It seemed as though Loki had lost his will to tower over the world. Not just in terms of ruling and invasion, but even in finding himself above others. He was more watchful and silent. Guarded. Definitely pliable though. He'd taken Clint's directions and orders for basic tasks easily and without complaint. The archer was sure there was a limit, but they certainly hadn't reached it yet. As he closed in on the god, he inspected the gash on his cheek, finding the bruising a nice pale purple, starting to yellow along the edges. Perhaps the beating Clint had given him during their first day alone had revealed to Loki that he was at the mercy of the people he'd tried to conquer. Or at least at the mercy of his former second-in-command.

Clint decided the injuries to the god's face were healing nicely, hoping he'll have a scar to remind him. He still watched him closely, taking his chance to get his fill. And then he caught himself- his fill of what? What the hell was so damn interesting about Loki's broken face? He didn't get time to think about it when Loki's eyes opened and widened with surprise. Clint was hovering over the god and he straightened up quickly, blinking a few times and jamming his hands into his jeans. He winced when the fabric scraped at the raw skin of his knuckles.

"Uh," Clint stammered and chuckled nervously, "I was just gonna wake you up; you beat me to it."

Loki sat up and rubbed his eyes, flipping the blanket off and swinging his legs over the edge of the couch.

"Were you attempting to wake me with a kiss- you were close enough for it." He trudged past the archer to the bathroom and slammed the door.

"Well, someone's not a morning person," he said to himself and then looked down at his crotch. "Unlike you."

When Loki reappeared, hair still wavy from lack of product and wearing his Asgardian leathers, Clint stood in the kitchen with a glass of milk in one hand, leaning his hip against the counter. The window was still open and the silky tones of a saxophone drifted in. Clint leaned his ear to the music and had his eyes closed. Loki had been going to say something, but the soft picture Clint made of himself caused the god to forget it. He listened to the music intently and watched Clint sip his milk. The god followed the sounds to the window and looked out, seeing the billowing curtains of the window across the alley. He commented on it, pointing out the source of the music.

"There's a lady who lives there alone, she puts it on if both our windows are open," Clint explained easily.

Loki looked perplexed. "She plays music for you?"

"Yeah."

"Have you considered accepting her entreaties?"

Clint screwed up his face and sputtered with a chuckle. "Her what?"

"She is wooing you. Will you allow her-"

"No, no, no- she's not trying to date me. She's not... fucking wooing me. She's just a lady. She turns on the jazz when we're both home; it's like-" Clint sighed and ran a hand through his hair while he collected his thoughts. "We're like kindred spirits or something. We understand each other in this small way. We don't know fuck all about each other, but we got this."

Loki looked back out towards the woman's window and furrowed his brows. Clint distracted him from it with a question of Loki's clothes. He had no others to change into. Clint went over the plan for the day, which was to buy Loki some regular clothes, buy food for the house, and whatever else they happened to do. They put their boots on and headed out.

Clint mounted the motorcycle and Loki followed suit, sunglasses on again.

"You are truly going to ingratiate me into your society?"

"You can't walk around in your leather shit- someone might recognize you with it, and you're gonna stink up a storm if you keep wearing it. I ain't living with a hobo." They sped off down the streets, Loki keeping his hands on Clint's hips and this time looking over his shoulder to watch the road.

Shopping for clothes had proved to be an ordeal. Not because Loki had eyed every piece of fabric with intense distaste, but because his height made it nearly impossible to find a fit in a regular store. The cashiers were young kids who just worked there for their wage, they had no idea if they carried tall sizes. Clint resorted to the mall to find what they needed, and he was pleasantly surprised. Before they entered the complex, Clint warned the god.

"So there's a shitload of people in there, if you couldn't tell by the number of cars," he said as he pulled off his helmet and tucked it under his arm. He lead Loki through the parking lot with it in hand, having had many helmets stolen if he left them on the bike in public. He wasn't sure why he didn't invest in storage for it on the bike, he just figured it wasn't a priority.

"Walk on the right side of the aisle, and stay right behind me. Okay? And take off the shades when you get in. We'll get in, find something, and get out. I don't like being in there longer than I have to."

They entered through a large department store and began the search for Loki sized clothes again. Actually asking an employee who knew what the hell was going on. She lead them to her 'tall man' section and Clint thanked her profusely for it, relieved at having the search be done already. She had seen the style of Loki's clothes but she was a professional; she made no stares or questioning looks. To her, he was just another guy cursed with height and he had come to her for help. He let Loki browse the whole section and pick out what he found passable and led him to the fitting rooms, leaning against the dressing room door while listening to the god rustle in and out of clothing.

"Was it this infuriating finding garments for Thor?"

"I dunno. Probably not- he's tall but big also. Thick. They have a store for that. Literally called 'Big and Tall'. His girlfriend probably took him there."

Loki scoffed with disgust behind the door and more rustling was heard. "That woman. Thor changed his tune about you tiny humans from simply laying eyes on her! He used to think them so ignorant and childlike; we would laugh when we recounted tales of them prostrating themselves before us at the sight of a mere flash of lightning or a simple swipe of magic." Loki finished his rant in a soft tone of regret, remembering things long past. "Now he would see them protected and coddled. Fool."

Clint chuckled. "Like children, you mean. He does it because, yeah, we seem like kids to him."

"Like a child himself corralling pups." The changing door opened and Loki combed his wavy hair back with his fingers, letting Clint look him over. "Well?"

Dressed in a basic button down shirt and jeans, Loki looked like a regular guy on his lunch break from the office. Whatever office lets you wear jeans with a dress shirt. And then the image broke with the Asgardian boots jutting from the pants. Clint pointed at them.

"Shoes," he said simply and they fitted him with a few pair.

As they stood at the counter and Clint handed over his plastic, Loki fingered and fretted with his new clothes, complaining about the weightlessness he felt without his leather and metal.

Clint sighed. "I guess we can try to find something to make you more comfortable out there," he said, pointing towards the large doorway that lead out into the mall. He thanked the cashier and toted the bags of Loki's extra clothes and shoes, and one with his leathers. They ambled into the halls of the mall, walking slowly so that Loki could look at everything, read every sign. The god seemed to become a little at ease here, dodging other patrons and recognizing something familiar between the stores and the kiosks lining the floors.

"This is a marketplace," Loki concluded.

"I guess so. Only thing you can't really buy here is food stuffs- groceries anyway."

Clint stopped in front of a weapons shop, looking at the swords and daggers on display in the front window. He saw sets of throwing knives carved like a bird's wing, others with the bevel of the blade colored like it was burning hot from the fire, or some as a giant spear-head with its metal twisting back into a handle. He looked back at Loki and remembered that he'd had knives hidden away in his armor, only a few, but he had magic then- he would only need a few. Loki didn't have his blades now, most likely taken away when he was on trial in Asgard.

Clint left the storefront and went to the god's side, checking out the merchandise. Woven necklaces, carved beads, leather accessories. It was the leather Loki was eyeing, thick cuffs lined on a roll with buckles, beads, or embossed with shapes and animals. Loki's fingers drifted to touch over a cuff with a burnt imprint of a raven slowly before pulling away and absently rubbing his fingertips against his thumb.

"These," he said.

Clint shrugged. "Okay, pick one."

Loki's eyes glossed over every one of them before gently tapping the one he wanted: black with an embossed tree, it's roots and branches knotted together in a never ending loop, and small leaves flung around it, all in green. Clint told him to grab it while he paid the girl who ran the kiosk. Loki found its button at the back and unclasped it, and he brought it to his nose and inhaled.

The girl inside the kiosk smiled and settled her elbows on the counter. "Love that leather smell right?"

Loki looked surprised that she understood his action and he nodded nervously as he wrapped the cuff over his wrist and clicked the button shut.

"Yes, it's lovely."

The girl gazed at Loki with bedroom eyes and hummed in agreement.

Clint watched the exchange and cleared his throat loudly, thanking her for the purchase and telling Loki it was time to go. Loki walked more at ease with his cuff on, Clint noticed, guess it was the weight and texture of the leather that made him feel more at home.

They mounted the bike together and Loki grunted with the tightening of the jeans against his crotch. Clint knew what was happening and he chuckled as he kicked the bike to life.

"Tight enough for you?"

"It wouldn't be so awful if I didn't have to sit directly behind you. I feel as though I'm rutting against you."

"Ugh, please don't say that. Don't you think we're weird enough without that image?"

They rode back to the apartment and dropped off the bags of clothes, and then they walked to a grocery store, the nearest one only a block or two away. They bought the basics, and a lot of variety, not knowing what to feed a god not of this world. He couldn't remember seeing Loki eat during the invasion. Loki responded best in the produce and meat sections of the store, confused by the packages of food. There was a lot of fruit and deli meat in the fridge. Clint wondered as they stowed the groceries in his cabinets and fridge if SHIELD was going to reimburse him for all the supplies to take care of a god. Probably not.

Loki stood next to Charles' tank and blandly watched Clint move about the kitchen, tossing cut vegetables and chicken into a pan with sauces and herbs. The window was open, but no music played from across the alley yet. From his position at the counter, Loki could see the bow hanging in the living room and he stared at it.

"What is the significance of your bow?"

"Of my bow?"

"Yes," Loki said and looked at Clint again as the archer stirred the cooking food. "You said no one is allowed to touch it, not even your bosom companion. It is special to you?"

Clint smiled down at the pan, remembering good things. "It's my granddad's bow. He made it himself a long time ago. See, we got a little Crow in my Dad's bloodline- my granddad was half or third or something, I can't remember. Anyhow, he was really into preserving his heritage and he learned how to do all kinds of shit old school natives used to do, including making bows. When I was a kid, he took me out into the woods, taught me how to make a bow, and arrows, and even the quiver. I had my own tiny one for a while... Not anymore though. But I fucking loved that thing- I practically spent my entire childhood outside shooting arrows at shit. When Granddad would visit, he'd bring an old teepee and we'd live like Indians on the plains for a few days. Archery was one of those things that I just took to like a fish to water. It was all I wanted to do and I wanted to be the fucking best at it."

"And look at you now," Loki said quietly, trying to keep the praise out of his voice.

"Look at me now." Clint turned off the burner to the stove and brought out two bowls, beginning to fill them with the dinner.

"Your grandfather gifted you his bow then?"

"Yeah, gave it to me when I had grown up a little, right after I moved out. I stayed with him in Montana for a couple weeks, told him what happened; he said I was a man and he gave me his bow. I already had a modern made bow, but it was nothing like my old one. But I had to keep up with my archery even after the first one broke."

The two leaned against opposite counters in the kitchen and ate as they continued to talk. Clint stopped to grab a couple sodas out of the fridge and he handed one to Loki while he popped open his own.

"Why not make another bow after the first one, if you knew how to make them?"

Clint exhaled hard and took a bite of chicken, thinking about his reasons clearly. "Because I didn't want to do all that work, put my sweat and blood into it, and just let my Dad break it again. That's how the first one went. I don't even really know his reason for it, but he hated that I spent all my time shooting. I guess because it made me happy and he didn't want me to be. So when Granddad gave me his bow, I never let another person touch it again. You're the only one who has now, but you didn't know, so it's whatever."

"I understand now why you were so angered by it. I did apologize."

"I know," Clint shrugged. He moved into the living room and Loki followed him, looking at the bow hanging on the wall in a new light. He eyed the tiny beads woven together into cuffs on either end of the grip before sitting down beside Clint on the couch.

"You like purple," the god said simply.

"You like green." Clint nodded down at Loki's wrist where the leather cuff gripped him.

Loki sighed and munched on the vegetables. "Even as a young child I knew Thor and I were different from each other. While I wished somewhere inside that we would be the same, I also had a burning in my belly to be his opposite. To prove myself a good boy just like him but in different ways. Green in the opposite of red. Its compliment. That's what we're were for a while- complements of each other. I dare say if there was no throne involved in our relationship, then none of our bad blood would have come to boil. That's where it started."

Clint hummed around his mouthful of food. He kind of liked all this sharing that was happening. The pair had fell into their weird familiarity easily because of their time working with the Tesseract, but they hadn't known a thing about each other. They hadn't needed to. Not that they needed to know each other now, but how do you live with another person, buy them clothes and food and let them sleep on your couch and ride behind you on your bike and not get to know them?

Clint couldn't remember the last person he told about his life- coworkers wanted to know just because they had nothing to talk about, they wanted to gossip. Clint had only shared his past fully with Natasha, maybe some bits and pieces to Coulson over the years.

"You wanted to be king," Clint surmised.

"I didn't want Thor to be king. He wasn't ready. I felt a little more fitting for the crown but I didn't want it. I was Thor's brother; I can rule just as well with my word in his ear."

"Oh, so you want the riches and privileges and king shit without having to do the work."

"Of course," the god set aside bowl and sipped the fizzy drink, glancing at it with surprise with every sip. "Why should I do the work when others will happily work themselves to the bone to do it for me? There's always someone to play the face of the operations and get things done for the one who holds his soul. Why do you think I chose you for my second-in-command?"

Clint's smirking face dropped into one of seriousness. "Think it's a little different when it's against your will."

"Would you have come with me if I had asked then?"

"No, I would've shot you."

"And if Agent Romanov requested it?"

Clint stared into Loki's eyes, comparing his relationship with Natasha to that of Thor and Loki's and he found it somewhat similar. Clint would do anything for her, just as Thor would do anything for Loki.

The god seemed to see the wheels turning in Clint's mind, seemed to know, with that smirk growing into a vicious grin, what Clint's answer was.

"Nat wouldn't manipulate me," Clint resounded.

"Just as she doesn't manipulate everyone around her? Just as she didn't manipulate me- as loathe am I to admit it?"

"It's different- she's my friend. Best friend, only friend."

Loki shook his head with a smile, pitying the poor human. "I was Thor's brother, yet I manipulated him his entire life."

"And that's why everyone hates you. You can't be honest. You can't ask for things yourself and just take the embarrassment when the answer's no."

Loki scowled and got up with a growl, leaving his drink and bowl on the floor and heading for the door, slamming it behind him as he stomped away. Clint let him go and put the dishes in the sink, leaving them for the next day and then he went to bed. The god would return when he cooled off.


	7. The Heart's Filthy Lesson

When Clint shuffled into the kitchen the next morning, he found Loki standing at the open window, looking out across the alley. Slow piano jazz tinkled in, sounding like something fit for an old nightclub lounge. He sidled up beside the god, finding the woman with her graying, copper hair, half hidden behind the window curtains. She was chopping something, cooking.

"There is a young woman visiting her," Loki said quietly.

Clint humphed and guessed. "Daughter, maybe."

"Perhaps. They do resemble each other."

"How long have you been up?"

"I have not slept."

Clint looked up at the god, seeing slightly dark bags under his eyes confirming how tired he must be. What he had said to the god last night must have given him food for thought if he didn't sleep all night. They continued to watch the woman in the next building without really seeing her. She looked up at them, what was usually just a glance to see if Clint's window was still open, and she seemed surprised to see a second man in the window beside him. She tentatively smiled and then went back to chopping. Loki sighed through his nose and Clint looked at him again.

"With the size of your home I can assume you don't have a library hidden away somewhere, yes?"

"A library?"

"Yes. Or perhaps you know someone who has one and would allow me to use it."

Clint rumbled around in the fridge before picking out a bag of tiny chocolate glazed doughnuts and ripping it open to stuff one in his mouth.

"Why would you want a library? I don't think we have books on magic. Not your kind anyways."

Loki rolled his eyes at the archer and mumbled, "Uneducated, tch."

"Well, I didn't graduate high school-"

"I am extensively bored. I have spent the morning watching your fish swim in his cage, watched and heard the woman across the way. I have read the labels of every box and jar in this house."

Clint smiled. "Even the shampoo bottles?"

"Yes," Loki sighed in exasperation.

"Well, why didn't you sleep? Sleep alleviates boredom most times."

"Because I am not human, I don't require rest every single day. And there is little to entertain me in your home as I while away the hours that you sleep. The television is unbearable to watch in the early hours."

The archer chuckled and put away the bag of doughnuts, sucking the tips of his fingers of the melted chocolate. He noticed Loki watching him carefully and he pulled his thumb out of his mouth with a wet noise, jabbing it at the fridge behind him.

"Want some doughnuts?"

Loki squinted at him with impatience. "I want books."

"Okay, okay. Let me get dressed, I'll take you to the library and we'll check out the whole place."

"Thank you." 

With an empty backpack on his shoulders, Loki and Clint parked against the curb near a red-bricked two-story building. The yellow and red flag that waved in the breeze above the double doors depicted the outline of a lion and read 'library'. Clint headed in, allowing the god to trail behind slowly, looking at the white pillars supporting red archways between the buildings long windows.

Just inside the doors, Clint swerved to the right where the reception desk was and he caught the attention of the lady behind it. Loki's head swiveled to see all of the long room, multiple chairs and tables, a few one-man sofas. The far walls started into bookshelves stuffed full, but when Loki spotted the staircase, he abandoned the ground floor to make his way up. Clint let him go and finished his dealings with the woman, finding the god on the second floor and perusing the history section, his arms already filling with books.

"Gonna bring those home? Or are all those to read while we spend the day here?"

"Both. It's thrilling that one may borrow books to take home- in Asgard, books in someone's library are treasured things and they don't leave the room."

Clint shrugged. "Books are important here too, but we like to share the knowledge."

"Finally, one redeeming quality of your people."

The archer rolled his eyes and walked away, to another section of the room. He strolled through the small aisles of low shelves, finding himself in the religion section and picking out a book he had been meaning to read. Now seemed as good a time as ever. Loki sat at one of the tables, his chosen tomes piled around him and already dipping into the pages. He didn't seem to notice Clint sit across from him and lean his chair back, reading from his lap. All that could be heard for a while was the turning of pages, both of them deep within their own reads. When Clint changed his position to have his elbow on the table, forearm up and holding the book in one hand, Loki glanced up at it and stared. The archer was reading the Prose Edda. Clint felt the stare, could see Loki's face in a blur of his peripheral vision and he looked at him with a smirk.

"Weird knowing I'm reading about you?"

"I doubt the grapevine campfire stories of a tribe of heathens could possibly lend much truth."

"I'll say," Clint snorted. "This says Thor has red hair."

Loki stared at the archer with no amusement on his face.

"And that you give birth to animals."

Loki growled and turned back to his own book, shaking his head and grumbling to himself while Clint chuckled at him.

The two ended up not staying the entire opening hours of the library, taking a break to get lunch and checking out the stack of books Loki could fit into the backpack. They ended up going back to the apartment after a lunch at Popeye's, introducing Loki to at least a vague semblance of Cajun cooking, and then went home. 

On the roof of his apartment, Clint tossed his stack of raw rabbit furs into a small tub of liquid, stirring them down and dropping a rock in to weigh them to the bottom. As the furs soaked, he set about picking up his camping gear, now dry and waiting. He folded up the tent and flysheet, rolling them into a tight cylinder and shoving them into the bag. He held the water bag upside down and shook it to make sure there was no moisture left behind before folding it up as well.

"Hello, there!"

Clint jumped and looked around, finding the source of the voice on the building next to his. The red-headed woman stood near the corner of her roof, lifting a shirt to clip onto a clothes line. She smiled at him over her shoulder. Clint smiled and waved at her.

"Hey!"

"Nice to hear your voice finally."

"Right?"

She reached into the basket at her feet and pulled up a pair of dark, damp jeans and hung them over the line.

"Was that your daughter?"

The lady looked confused for a moment before it dawned on her and Clint apologized.

"Sorry, I guess that's kinda creepy- Loki happened to see her this morning when he was listening at the window."

She dismissed his apology with a wave of her hand. "Yes, she's visiting from school- come up here to stay with her girlfriend for the summer." She slowed her speech then, trying to be discreet. "Loki. Is that... your boyfriend?"

Clint's heart rammed into his throat at the word, shaking his head violently at the notion. "Oh, no," He laughed nervously. "No, he's uh... He came across some hard times and he's bunking with me for a while. He's not my boyfriend."

"Well it's nice that you can help a friend when they've got nowhere else to turn." She flapped a wet shirt in the breeze and clipped it in place.

Clint finished packing his gear up and wanted to laugh at himself. Of course his neighbor lady would think he and Loki were together and of course the thought would embarrass him. He left the furs in the vat of chemicals and said goodbye to the red-headed lady, and she bade him a cheery farewell in return. When he got back into the apartment, he realized he didn't ask for her name. And she hadn't asked for his.

Loki was laid out on the couch with one of his books in hand, flipping the page often. Clint thought about telling Loki what the woman had thought of them, but decided against it just as he opened his mouth. What would they say about it other than laugh nervously at each other and make large about how dumb it would be? He settled with telling the god he was right about the girl visiting her as he put away the tent and gear in his closet. Loki merely hummed and continued to read. The archer rolled his eyes and sat on the floor against the couch, grabbing off the stack of books on the carpet and flipping through it idly. Atlas of World History.

"Learning about how you're not the only invader to fail to conquer the world?"

"I am learning the history of your young world," Loki said, dodging the question.

"Mm-hm. Well, I'm gonna watch TV; I'll keep it low, but I guess if you need quiet, you can read in my room." He clicked the television on and watched the Discovery channel, a piece on Christmas Island, and Loki stayed on the couch. 

The room was bare and dark, white floors shadowed hard even with the ceiling open to show the sky, and he could see Loki clearly as if it were daytime, lying on the floor and head turned to look beside him, at Clint. The god gazed at him calmly even as his body rocked against the floor and a hiss of air was heard. Clint looked down Loki's armored body to see a copy of himself between the god's legs, thrusting his clothed hips into him. Clint was going to get up from the floor, heart pounding in panic at the sight, but he couldn't move. His second body, mocking sex, planted his hands on the floor beside Loki's shoulders and looked over at himself, growling and protective, and Clint was breathless at the vines of bright blue that slithered up the other's neck and into his eyes, coloring them full. Loki leaned up to nuzzle at his ear and made the twin looked away from Clint, the opal-blue eyes suddenly becoming their usual grey color as he locked eyes with the god. He continued to thrust against him through his jeans and whine in frustration.

Clint went to grab the copy's shoulder and he froze when the hand reaching out was thin and feminine, arm wrapped in tight black fabric. Loki saw the hesitation and sneered at him, at her, even as he sighed and laid his head on the floor again, pulling Clint's hips harder against him.

He- she, watched the clone of Clint wrap his fingers in the belts of Loki's leathers and jerk the god into him as he pushed, beginning to snarl when he couldn't make himself get close enough. Loki snickered breathlessly, enjoying the man's torment.

Her lips moved on their own, not having a clue as to what she would say, but the words supplied themselves, all too familiar.

"Don't do this to yourself, Clint."

She was scared.

Clint whimpered and halted his movement, bending himself over the god and covering his face with his hands, fingernails digging into his forehead and cheeks. He seemed to cry and laugh at the same time, as Loki ran his fingers along Clint's thighs.

 _You don't understand_ , he said.

She trembled as she reached out to just graze her fingers over Clint's leg, nearly coming into contact with Loki's.

"This isn't you."

 _You know that?  
_  
Clint raised his head from his hands and sat back on his heels, breathing long and deep as he gazed up into the clear skies with a smile turning his lips. Loki rose from Clint's lap and walked past him, hands behind his back and strolling away. Clint turned his eyes to her, suddenly blazing blue again and slowly fading away into grey as he smiled at her contentedly.

 _It ain't him in here-_ he said- _it's me_. 

Clint eyes popped open to see the ceiling of his apartment, flashing steadily in the dark with the changes of scene on the television. He lifted his head from the seat of the couch and blinked hard, seeing the actors on screen move their mouths and the yellow 'MUTE' in the corner.

"What did you dream?" Loki asked quietly behind him.

Clint turned his head towards the god's voice and then turned away again, getting up to go into his bedroom. He sighed and shook his head lightly.

"Nothing."

As Clint lie in bed, hearing the television become noisy again, he thought about his dream and how turned on he was. That's what scared him the most- how hot he had felt at seeing himself buck into Loki with such fervor, and how Loki had enjoyed every second of it. It didn't matter that they were clothed- the visual was there.

He squeezed his eyes shut and took deep calming breaths, trying to will away his erection while he scrutinized his dream further. He had been shocked to find himself, the one watching the dream unfold, as Natasha. That's who he realized he was when he had spoken, though he had a fleeting inkling when he saw his own hand reach out. The look Clint had given her when she saw them- the fierce growls of defensiveness, he couldn't believe himself. Protecting Loki. And the god had paid her no mind, as though she hadn't been a threat, and brought the archer's attention back to him fully, to thrust and grunt against him.

Clint groaned quietly and balled his hands into fists when he found them starting to wander along his thighs, right over the tops where Loki had touched them. He couldn't get away from the lust, even though he knew it was sick that he could get off on the thought of rutting against his former master, and he tensed all his muscles as he slipped a hand in his shorts to grip his length hard and squeeze. It provided slight relief, but he was aching and it wouldn't be enough. He pumped himself hard and fast, just wanting to come and go to sleep, but he found he couldn't close his eyes. When he did, all he could see were those green eyes glinting at him. All he could see were his hands tangled in black hair. He kept his eyes open and stared unseeing at the ceiling as he finished, and stared some more until he drifted into sleep again, come drying over his fingers. 

On the roof again, arms and hands tucked away in long rubber gloves, Clint scraped away the fats and meats left over from the furs, now softened and pliable. Loki perched on the ledge with another book, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, no shoes; enjoying the sunshine. He kept an eye on the archer, who had acted aloof all morning and even here on the roof had his back to him. Clint couldn't bear to look at the god without seeing his dream all over again. He knew he was acting strange, but he just couldn't stop himself.

Loki sighed softly and closed his book with a flapping sound. "If you talk about it then perhaps it will loosen it's hold on you."

Clint kept on scraping the insides of the furs. "Talk about what?" He knew what though.

"Your dream. It rankles you. I have some experience in dream interpretation, perhaps I can help you."

"Dreams don't mean shit," Clint grunted and flicked away a glob of fat. "It's just stuff you see and hear and some food you ate the night before fucking with your brain."

Loki wanted to roll his eyes but he didn't. "I agree that many dreams can be meaningless for the things you say, but there are those with which your mind is trying to communicate to your soul. Or the other way around."

"I'm not talking to you about my dream!" Clint snapped, twisting to look the god in the eyes. Loki looked back calmly, but the wheels were already turning in his head.

"I was in it," he said gently, not quite asking.

Clint sighed as he worked, not answering. Loki had the decency to look away, over the edge of the roof, as he sought out the contents of Clint's dream.

"We laid together, didn't we? This is what rattles you so."

"Goddamn it!" the archer shouted and threw his scraper down onto the concrete. "I said I wasn't talking about this!"

"You haven't spoken a word of it- but you're angered at my guesses which tells me I'm right so far, but past that I haven't the slightest idea as to how it could upset you so. It's merely a dream of sex! They happen to anyone who is in constant close proximity of another. Even I have them- of Thor no less and that is disturbing."

Clint lost his energy to scrape at the rabbit hides and sat on the ground, hanging his head against his chest to let the sun on his neck.

"We didn't have sex," he said, closing his eyes against the day.

Loki turned to face him and crossed his arms against his legs. "Tell me."

Clint huffed an exasperated sigh and looked up at the blue skies. "I was trying to, I was trying to fuck you through our clothes. You just smiled at me and took it, you didn't try to help. But... There was two of me. I was on you, but the other me- I was a third person watching it all. And the me with you was scary- possessive."

"Possessive?"

"Of you. It seemed like the other me thought I was going to take you away. You didn't seem to think so."

Loki stared at Clint's back as the archer looked into the clouds, watching sparrows fly by lazily. "What color are your eyes here?"

Clint smacked his face into his hands and groaned. "Fuck, how did you know?"

"They're like the Tesseract, weren't they?"

"Only when I looked at myself. When I looked at you... they were mine." Clint had watched the footage of his sabotage in the helicarrier and seen the ethereal blue clouds in his eyes.

Loki grunted at the information and Clint found his will to continue with his work on the furs, glad the conversation was over. Loki picked up his book again but waited to open it, thumbing the corner and rubbing the spine as he mulled over what he was going to say. What he would say that wouldn't upset the archer.

"Well," he said, "be at ease- your dream means nothing."

"Thank god for that."

Loki leaned back against the ledge of the roof and flipped the book open. "Don't thank me," he muttered.


	8. Figures

In the garage of SHIELD headquarters, Clint jerked his helmet off and stuck it on the handlebar of the motorcycle while Loki straightened his coats, back in his hand-washed Asgardian attire. Clint shook his head at him with a roll of his eyes as they waited for the elevator to open up.

"You're not going to convince anyone here that you're trying to change by wearing that stuff, you know."

They entered the elevator and punched the buttons for the conference floor. Clint leaned his butt against the low hand-holds and crossed his arms, Loki stood opposite.

"I find it's always best to keep the reminders in place of whom exactly is being dealt with. Your SHIELD will not forget I am a god- no matter how low I can be brought to toil with the likes of your kind."

"My kind?" Clint said haughtily.

"Humans."

"Oh, I know what you meant," Clint pushed himself off the railing and reached out to jab the 'full stop' button. The elevator rattled and bounced to a halt and shook the two unsteadily.

"But you're not gonna win many favors talking like that around us. Maybe you can get away with it with the civilians- they don't know you; they'll just think you're a giant dick, but with SHIELD, the people who had to keep track of your body count and include their own agents in the tally, they ain't gonna take kindly to _your kind_ of talk."

Loki seemed amused by Clint's scolding, a tiny smile twisting his lips. "As I recall, you assisted in racking up those numbers," he said.

The bile rose up in Clint's throat and he didn't hesitate for a second to ball up his fist and punch Loki across the face with one quick movement. The god's head jerked with the force and he tried to muffle his hiss of pain, but the scowl he laid on the shorter man leaked a single drip of blood which he swiped away with a flick of his tongue. He recovered his cool facade in a quick moment, looking down his nose at the blonde.

"I only speak the truth," he said with a hint of a grin.

"The truth! The truth is: you're nothing without others to stand on. If you had come here without your fancy spear, you wouldn't have made it out of the base. We would've beaten the shit outta you and locked you up to wait for your big brother to come and take you back to daddy."

Loki bristled at the words, anger boiling up in him at the picture Clint made of him.

"You cannot contain me," he growled. "I am a god, a power so beyond your tiny conception of reality that you bow and scrape before me in radical awe!"

"Yeah, and your so fucking powerful, you would've crashed and burned without me by your side! I made your invasion happen! You couldn't even have gotten out of Nevada without me! You can't step into the limelight without standing on someone else's shoulders."

Loki lunged at the archer with those accusations, tackling him to the floor of the elevator and grasping at the blond's throat as he drew back his fist for a punch. Clint knew the fight was coming and he was ready for it, whisking a knife out from behind him and touching the point into Loki's neck as they hit the floor, freezing the tussle before it had even begun.

The agent put a little more pressure into the knife to prick at Loki's skin, eyes wild in lust for blood.

"You wanna go, boy?" he rasped. "I'll cut the skin right off you so deep it'll never grow back. Raw and exposed for the rest of your life, I'll make sure to take care of you- use you as a footstool and drink margaritas all day while I rub the salt from the rim right into your bleeding eyes." He expelled a harsh breath and rested his head on the floor as he let the threats seep into the god's brain.

"That how you wanna live out your punishment?"

Loki snarled and glared daggers into Clint's eyes, wishing whole-heartedly he could kill the archer. But he didn't. He released Clint's neck and rose, drawing himself up to watch the other with unconcealed fury.

Clint got up and tucked the knife into his jeans at the small of his back, pulling at his jacket to straighten it. He turned away to release the all-stop and faced the closed doors of the elevator as it jiggled back to life and lifted them again. Loki stepped up beside him and looked unseeing at the metal doors, tonguing the split flesh in the corner of his mouth silently, his hatred abating with the drop of adrenaline.

The elevator dinged blandly when their floor was reached and the doors slid open to let them out, Clint going first. He jammed his fists into his coat and hunched his shoulders defensively with his exit, nervously glancing to the sides, like any of the personnel had witnessed the altercation in the elevator. Possibly a security detail had, through the cameras, he was sure Fury would be shown the footage. Loki stalked behind him sullenly. The shocked stares and watchful glances the two received on the jaunt to the conference room put Clint on edge. He felt like any one of them could snap and start hailing bullets down on them for the sight of the god walking freely in their midst. He noticed many of the eyes or heads turning to follow him, and he knew they were suspicious, wondering if Clint was under Loki's thrall again or maybe he'd gone rogue and decided to walk with him of his own volition. He made sure not to make eye contact with any of them, hunkering down within himself to brush them off.

The door to the meeting room whooshed open and they entered to be greeted by Fury, who rose slowly from his chair at the head of the table and waved the pair to their seats.

"Thank you for coming, Agent Barton," he said as his eye flicked over to Loki, "and for bringing your pet."

Clint shrugged. "It's kinda hard to go anywhere without him. House is farther than a quarter mile."

"You have a room available to you here, if you wanted to keep extra eyes on him."

"Thank you, sir, but I'd just as soon not."

Fury hummed and contemplated Clint's refusal, but he let it go with a bow of his head. "Well, the offer will stand." He laced his gloved fingers together atop the table and his face became grave.

"You've been grounded until further notice."

Clint's breath left his lungs like it had been socked out of him. He knew this had been coming, but hearing the Director get right to the heart of it without any prompting had still shocked him. His own assessment of the situation and knowing he'd be grounded didn't make him any less angry about it. The one arm he rested on the table tensed and he clenched his fist.

"You knew this was coming," Fury added with a hint of remorse. "The limitations of this contract with Odin are too restricting for you to accomplish anything. Until we can figure something out- no missions."

"I could still be in on the briefings," Clint appealed, "I have extensive black op history, knowledge of crime rings- I'm practically best friends with Rosario 'la Diosa'! I can help out somehow."

The Director raised his hands and conceded his point. "I know, Barton. Maybe we'll use you as a consultant while we try to get this shit sorted out, but in the meantime..."

Clint growled loudly and rubbed his eyes. "Was there anything else, sir? I have to see my shrink."

"No, I just brought you here so you wouldn't wreck my office."

"Great. Where do you want me to keep him?" He jerked his thumb at Loki, who had watched the whole exchange studiously.

"Now, _he_ can stay in my office."

"But you don't trust _me_ not to tear it apart?!"

Loki spoke up, "I must say, I cannot offer a promise to be proper and civilized."

"I'll take my chances." Fury stood up again and went to open the automatic door. "You're dismissed, Agent Barton."

Clint glared at Loki with betrayal adding to his ire before he jerked out of his chair and left him behind, grumbling to himself. He headed straight for the office down another hallway, this one silent and devoid of agents passing to and fro. He burst into the room without preamble and slammed the door behind him, tossing himself into the small cushioned chair awaiting him. The doctor, sitting behind his desk and typing away on his laptop, startled in his chair, but he didn't say anything about Clint's abrupt entrance.

Clint slouched in the chrome seat and glowered at the psychiatrist. "Hear about my new pet?"

"Hm," Winchester confirmed without really saying it. "Is that what you call him?"

"S'what everyone else calls him, apparently. That he's on a leash, and I have to keep track of him."

"And what do you think of that?"

"I think it's stupid," Clint grunted, starting to get that weird feeling of blankness he always felt while in this room with the doctor. Like he was far away, no longer registering feelings or complex thought. He felt gravity weighing down his flesh.

"It's a punishment for him to be here; I'm his jailer, his handler- that's it. Calling him a pet makes me feel like I'm... using him for something sick."

Winchester nodded sagely. "The connotations of the pet label on another sentient being is something sexual, usually. That is why it makes you feel so. Tell me what happened when you saw him again."

"Thor showed up with him at my camp-ground, Natasha had told him where I was. He brought Loki right to me. He didn't talk for a while, just let Thor tell me everything, and then it was just him and me. Thor left, and I finished camping... with Loki."

"How did you feel?"

"Confused, angry. Scared. I thought maybe Thor was being controlled like I was. But he wasn't and then I was just pissed off." Clint looked at his jean-covered knees and let himself be pulled down in the weight of his skin. "I beat him," he murmured. Winchester watched without reaction, waiting to hear it all.

"I beat him until his skin broke over his face, my knuckles got cut open. I stabbed an arrow through his hand." He looked up at the doctor then, and furrowed his brows in sad confusion. "It made me feel better, but I thought I was going to enjoy it, and I didn't. I thought... I dunno. It felt more like I was making a point- I beat the crap out of him to show I wasn't afraid of him, and show him I've got the power now. It was almost a chore. I knew I _had_ to do it. And when it was done, and he was bleeding all over his face and his hand had a hole I could see through, I was pleased at a job well done."

"Sounds as though you regret your actions, even though you say it made you happy."

"It didn't make me happy," Clint denied, "it made me... not feel powerless. He can't do much to me that I couldn't do to him now. Like it puts us on even ground. He took his beating with grace and now he lives in my apartment, eats my food, watches the news like a regular guy."

Winchester's voice came to Clint's ears in a soft way but his next assessment put a steadying hand on his soul with a word that brought realization.

"You see him as your equal."

Clint felt a little light on his feet when he left Dr. Winchester's office an hour later, he was released from his obligation to see Winchester. They talked over his sometimes-tense, sometimes-comfortable relationship that had formed with Loki, his feelings on being grounded, where he thought his life was going now. But he answered honestly, mostly, and then Winchester told him that his door would be open to him.

He knocked on the Director's door, and again didn't wait for an answer before entering. He found Fury at his desk chair, actually filling out paperwork, and Loki, standing at the floor-to-ceiling windows and staring out at the city. He held his hands behind his back and looked up to the tops of the buildings, mouth parted slightly as though in awe, but Clint knew it wasn't that. The archer stood at the threshold of the door, keeping it open, and he called out to the god.

"Hey-" and Loki pivoted to face him, "-you ready to go?"

He felt like he was a parent picking up his kid from the principal's office. Loki left his place at the windows and walked away with the Archer, neither of them giving a word to the Director on their way out.

Clint and Loki loaded onto the bike and sped out of headquarters, but he didn't take the usual route home. Instead, he led them to a crowded park. Even with the god in his leathers and metal, Clint just couldn't bring himself care if someone recognized him and panicked. They were regular people; what were they going to do? Just run and hide.  
He walked away from the god to stand in the grass and breathe deeply. The tinkling music of an ice cream truck came to his his ears and his mood lightened even more. He followed the truck's movements to park against the curb and watched it get flooded with children and happy couples. He waited until they had all gone before going to it.

"Stay here," he told Loki, who had come to stand beside him. He turned to walk backwards a moment and address the god again, "you're not lactose intolerant are you?"

"I have no idea what that means," the god complained.

Clint waved the comment off and kept on to the truck. He smiled at the man in the truck sadly, finding him looking a little bewildered from the mad rush of people.

"Hey, man," the archer chuckled, "got anything left?"

The ice cream man laughed tiredly with him and checked his coolers. "Some OtterPop types and... push-pops. Oh hey- couple of bomb pops, those bottle rocket things?- getting ready for the fourth, you know."

"Oh, _those_! Give me two of the rockets."

The man handed the frozen treats over in exchange for Clint's cash and he thanked him and went back to the god, who stood still by himself on the grass. The blond held out the treat and Loki took it hesitantly, warily grasping it's flat wooden stick with his thumb and forefinger. He eyed it warily and glanced at Clint who had begun licking his own red, white, and blue popsicle.

"Eat it before it melts," Clint advised and gestured him to follow to a bench that just opened up.

They sat, and Loki tested out his treat, shocking himself at the freezing temperature of it even though the other had hinted at it. Kids ran around the grass, mostly screaming and laughing; chasing each other and playing tag or just playing in general. There was one with his mother and father flanking him, and teaching him to fly the sparrow-shaped kite that fluttered in the sky. The pair on the bench devoured the popsicles, one with dainty tip-of-the-tongue licks, and the other with his mouth around it and sopping up the drips.

"What are we doing here?" Loki asked.

"Just enjoying the scenery." Clint pointed to the popsicle Loki began to nibble at. "Eating popsicles. Something wrong with that?"

"I suppose not."

Clint sighed and leaned back against the bench and gazed up at the tops of the waving trees. "Just feeling annoyed. Grounded and all that. Gonna get real bored real fast. I know Fury said I might do consulting work, but that shit's for babies. I could do it in my sleep. You're really putting me out here, you know."

"I'm sorry my incarceration is such an inconvenience to you," Loki said sarcastically.

"Can't just get along with your brother like everyone else."

"I would prefer having my fingernails torn away than to sit silently under that idiot's weight!" Loki spat. "You have no idea the darkness I was forced to live under, never having the sun shine on my face in recognition of anything. A mother's darling taught woman's fighting; called dishonorable and a sneak for all the trouble I saved him! 'There is no honor in magic'- fools. Where would they be without _Odin's_ magic?" The sentiment caused Loki pause and he became somber. He sighed. "Where would I be without Odin's magic? Dead. But Asgard and Earth would be saved from my bungled machinations, so I suppose their hatred of the art is well placed."

Clint shrugged with one shoulder and grunted. "Nobody likes magic when it's used against them: I can testify that. Odin saved your life?"

"As a babe- it's nothing I could thank him for if I ever felt the inclination."

The archer hummed and nodded as he digested the information, piecing together the bits and pieces of Loki's past that he let slip every once in a while. They'd never talked about themselves during the invasion. There was no call for it. He remembered taking the time to regale Loki of the tale of Natasha's life, offering up information that no one but she and he himself knew. But when Loki asked for it, Clint didn't spare Natasha's feelings a single thought- she had been the enemy then, and when the boss wanted to know the enemies every weakness, he was happy to clue him in.

Of himself, Clint had told Loki nothing. Hadn't been asked to because he was a mere pawn. But he felt like there wasn't much to tell in any case- most of his life consisted of the job he held now, with a few different employers here and there. His past was something he looked back on with nonchalance after getting through the torment of his father. He still felt pain when he remembered particular moments, but otherwise he thought he lived an okay childhood. There was nothing he thought he regretted, not much to be ashamed of.

He pulled himself from his thoughts and got up, telling the god it was time to go home. The god came without question, and the two rode back to the apartment silently. Clint led the way up the flights of stairs to the front door wanderingly, still a little lost inside himself, though he wasn't sure why. The presence of the pale man behind him had become an extension of himself at some point. Loki was always there at his back, and Clint knew he was there without feeling him anymore. No longer did the hair on his nape stand on end at the feel of another so close behind him. There was only one other person he felt so comfortable with out of his sight.

The key was jabbed into the bolt lock when they finally landed on his floor, and he turned it with ease, soundlessly. Clint stared up at the plain door with wide eyes and he left the key in it's place as he reached into his coat and came out with a gun. Loki drew back a step and looked back and forth between Clint's face and the weapon, concerned and confused. The agent put a finger to his lips to call Loki's silence and he gripped the doorknob tight, turning it slowly and opening the door a crack. He peeked into the apartment through the crack and widened it further, keeping an eye out for the intruder. He drew back to hold a hand out to Loki, palm out to signal he stay where he was. Loki made no acknowledgment that he understood, but he didn't move. Clint pushed the door to open on on its own and he leveled his pistol, ready to dodge and return fire if need be. The living room was clear of any intruder, but the refrigerator in the kitchen closed with a heavy clunk and glasses clinked. He aimed towards the kitchen and began a slow stalk across the carpet.

"Clint, it's me," came Natasha's warning tone from the other side of the wall.

The archer's shoulders slumped and he let his arm fall to his side. The redhead stepped into view, holding up two bottles of golden liquid in one hand.

"I brought beer."

Clint sighed and chuckled with relief and holstered his gun. "Jesus, 'Tasha. I thought somebody broke in! Loki-" he called out to the god- "you can come in; it's just Natasha."

She smirked and turned away, popping the caps of the bottles on the edge of the countertop and setting them down. "You think I'd leave the door unlocked if I was breaking in?" She pulled a small cutting board out from beside the block of knives and grabbed a lime from the fridge, beginning to slice it apart.

"Yeah, I should've known it was you," Clint admitted, cursing himself for not thinking of it. Loki stepped up beside him and watched Natasha shove a wedge of the green fruit into the neck of the bottles. She saw him from the corner of her eye and when she was done doctoring the beer, she handed one of the chilled bottles to Clint, making eye contact with the god.

Clint walked by them to look in the fridge and he hooted when he found the styrofoam boxes piled with Mexican food inside. He pulled them out and found the contents still hot, meaning Natasha had shown up just before they had.

"You drink?" She asked Loki.

"I will not be getting drunk around you," he said pointedly.

She pulled another bottle from the fridge and gave it the same treatment as the fist two. "That's not what I asked, because I can drink you under the table." She shoved the beer at him and he took it reluctantly.

Clint moaned as he forked some of the rice in his mouth, holding his beer between the middle knuckles of his fingers and an open box of food in his hand, walking between the two again to sit on the couch.

"What're we watching?" He called between mouthfuls.

Natasha handed Loki one of the boxes and took one for herself and went to sit on Clint's right, leaving Loki to trail behind uncertainly.

"Twister. Storm of the Century, too, in case you wanted a long watch."

"Mmm, maybe to fall asleep to," Clint decided. He craned his neck to find Loki standing beside the couch, looking unsure of himself with the odd food in his hand, the odd seating arrangement. The archer scooted closer to Natasha to touch their thighs together.

"Sit, man; Nat decided it's movie night."

Natasha turned on the television and DVD player with the remotes, holding her beer between her knees. Loki took a deep breath and moved, settling himself on Clint's left and finding there wasn't enough space to not be touching him. They sat thigh-to-thigh on the cushions as well. The loud and grating sounds of the film began, recognizing their sound mixers and producers, anyone who'd had a hand in the making of the film. Loki studied the assassins beside him, watching them shovel the food into their mouths and take swigs of their beer as they kept their eyes glued to the screen. They leaned back into the couch, at ease with each other and even leaning into each other an imperceptible degree. Loki tried ingratiate himself with them and he mirrored their positions, taking testing nibbles at the rice and refried beans and being pleasantly surprised with the taste. He sipped gently at the beer, finding the act of strangling the neck of the bottle with a lime as a strange tradition, but he ended up accepting the fizz and tang as well. He held the bottle up to read its white lettering and discern where it was made, calling up the history he'd read of the country in question. He ate slowly and drank slowly, ending up watching the television screen with fascination.

The god felt himself silly at having grown to be attached to the characters in such a minuscule amount of time, feeling excitement and fear with them as he fell under the movies thrall. He'd stopped eating sometime in the middle, finishing the beer and setting it all aside on the end table. Clint saw Loki's rapt attention to the film and elbowed Natasha to look at him, to which she snorted and rolled her eyes. Clint just smiled and shook his head, turning back to the movie.

When it ended and the credits rolled, the agents stretched their limbs and got up to take their leftovers and empty bottles into the kitchen, leaving Loki to dizzy himself as he read through all the credits and listened to the end music. Natasha dumped the bottles into the trash bin while Clint tucked the boxes into the fridge.

"Never seen a movie before, I take it?" She said with a smile, finding Loki's childlike awe cute.

Clint tossed their forks in the sink with a noisy clanging. "Nah, he's just been watching TV since he got here. Watches the news a lot."

"Hm."

They went back to the living room and Natasha took out the first disk and put it away, putting another into the player. Clint flopped onto the couch next to Loki again, making a lot of groans and sighs as he stretched his arms over the back and smiled contentedly. Loki looked thoughtful, watching Natasha with interest.

"How many of these 'movies' are there?"

Clint snorted.

Natasha softly sat back on the couch while the disk was being read. "Thousands. Maybe millions."

"Really," Loki breathed. "Where do you acquire them?"

Clint barked a laugh and sighed happily, "Oh my god, he's gonna be on a movie binge for the rest of his life."

"Clint can supply you with a list of good ones," Natasha cut in, ignoring Clint's protest that he have to do it. "Just ask and he'll get them."

The movie began slowly and peacefully, with gentle music against a fly-over shot of cold oceans and snow, and the three went quiet and watched.

It was a four and a half hour film, mostly a quiet and non-jump inducing one. The music was sometimes creepy and there were chills to be had, but otherwise, the voice-over of the main character soothed with his gravely, grim tone. Loki sat at attention, enraptured by all the elements of music, suspense, characters, and plot seamed together. Around halfway in, Clint had fallen asleep, with his chin tucked in on his chest and arms crossed loosely. He leaned precariously towards the redhead, who bore the brunt of his shifting weight easily. She rested her head in her hand and blinked slowly at the screen, knowing sleep was going to claim her soon. She shoved at Clint to sit him up straighter so they could lean against each other while they slept, and he groaned sleepily, not waking up. She grunted as she pushed him into place and tucked herself against him, watching the movie blearily with her arms crossed tightly against her breasts.

Clint grumbled as he nuzzled Natasha's curls, recognizing her scent even in his sleep. Through the film, Natasha's weight pushed against the archer, leaning him further into Loki's side. The god withstood the pressure, mostly not even noticing the two agents with his stare into the TV. As the credits began to roll and bathe the living room nearly black, Clint awoke slowly, lifting his head from atop Natasha's and breathing in sharply, groaning. He looked up at Loki who still read through the credits dutifully, and he tipped his head back against the couch.

"What did you think?" He asked quietly.

"Quite a tale. You slept through most of it."

"Yeah, that one puts me out. S'good though. Ready for bed?"

Loki furrowed his brows and looked between Clint and Natasha. "Where will Agent Romanov sleep?"

The blond groaned and reached up to rub his eyes. "Fuck. In my bed, I guess. I can break out the sleeping bag. You can stay on the couch."

"You really do not sleep together?"

"She's my friend, and I love her, but not like that. She knows that. We can sleep in the same bed if the situation calls for it, but this ain't one of those times."

Clint sighed as he got up, holding Natasha up and giving her a gentle shake to rouse her enough to stand.

"Time to knock out, Nat. You got the bed."

The redhead breathed deep and rose silently, running her hand down Clint's arm and leading away with his hand as she left them for his bedroom. He followed at a distance and came back with his sleeping bag, unfurling it over the prayer rug. Loki went into the bathroom and changed out of his leather and into a set of black silk bedclothes, the long-sleeved shirt buttoned up and the pants tied low at his hips, though the shirt was long enough to cover the edge. Clint had stripped out of his own clothes while Loki was away, walking out of the kitchen in his boxers with a glass of water in his hand. Clint paid his own near nudity no mind with the company and settled into his sleeping bag, nestling the glass in the carpet. He chuckled at Loki's sleeping clothes as he did every time he saw them, and took one last sip of his water before lying down, arms behind his head. Loki laid on the couch with the blanket over his body, curled on his side and a hand under his cheek. They lie in the pitch black of the room, both breathing silently and knowing the other was still awake because of it.

"I find your relationship with Agent Romanov quite strange," Loki finally murmured.

Clint snorted softly, having waited for him to say something before going to sleep.

"You remember what I told you about when her and I met, right? I was sent to kill her, brought her to our side instead."

"Yes: she said she owed you a debt because of it."

"Tch, nah, she doesn't and she knows that. The lady in the other building- our weird understanding of each other? It's that kind of relationship with me and Nat. I trust her with everything I have, and she returns the feelings. I don't have to be in love with her to love her."

Loki's eyes were open and they were looking in Clint's direction though he couldn't see him even those few feet away. He let the archer's assessment wash over him in silence for a moment before Clint spoke again.

"Don't you have someone like that? Everybody has someone that has their back, always. Even if it's their own mother."

Loki huffed and pictured his mother, glowing and golden, brilliant in her smile; burning in her love. She loved Loki; he knew, even though he said he didn't, said that it had all been a farce. He loved her too, though he felt betrayal whenever he thought of her. He supposed one would always love their mother, biological or not, regardless of the other feelings you could have for them. Did she match Clint's relationship with Natasha? No. While she loved him, she couldn't support him in _all_ his choices- she was his mother.

If he thought of Thor and their childhood, he found that they were never a match. Opposites in nearly all things. They had to be persuaded into doing anything the other wanted, and only then if they got something out of it in return. Thor standing against him during his attempt to take over Earth, telling him to go home like a chastised child- put him out of Clint's criteria of trust and love as well. Thor would always go against him.

"No," he finally said. "No one has ever been a friend to me like you are to Agent Romanov. No one cares to be."

Clint stared up blankly at the ceiling he couldn't see. "Well for now, you know I've got your back- if you die, I die."

"You are a poor excuse of a friend, in that case."

"I'm the only person on this whole planet that'll let you sleep on his couch- and that's saying something from the guy you brainwashed to work for you. I'd call myself one hell of a friend."

" _Are_ we friends now?" Loki questioned curiously, to which Clint was silent for a few moments.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "I can trust you with my life because of the rules... but that doesn't mean you'll help me if I'm getting tortured. Doesn't mean you'll agree with all my decisions without question. It doesn't mean..." Clint broke off and sighed quietly, turning onto his side away from the couch and closing his eyes. "Well. It just doesn't."

He wondered what he had been going to say, and when it came to him it had shocked him with a little fear right to his heart. He wasn't sure of himself, and he wasn't sure of Loki, so he'd let the conversation trail away into nothing. He questioned himself silently why he had begun thinking this way, knowing he _shouldn't_ be thinking this way. His time as Loki's second-in-command had been guilt-free and, if he was honest with himself, soul-enriching, fulfilling. A simple brainwash to change his sides and he'd been happy as a clam to get some real work in; not the assignments he'd been given lately to sit and watch, sit and aim, sit and do nothing. Clint squeezed his eyes tight and grimaced at himself when he thought these things. And it hadn't been the first time he'd thought it. But it still made him feel guilty and his heart stung when he made himself push it all away and convince himself that the feelings were just longings of a drug he could no longer have. Something so bad for him and capable of killing outright, but he was addicted at the first taste. He wondered if Selvig or the other men that had been captured by the Tesseract felt the same way. With a sour taste in his mouth he scorned himself and thought that they probably didn't, and he was simply a disgusting person inside.

As he began to fall asleep under his self-depreciating thoughts, he wondered again what he had been going to say to Loki, when the darkness was conducive to perfect, unadulterated honesty. Loki's voice floated over to him in a whisper after all their silence just as Clint drifted away to sleep.

"I will."

 _It doesn't mean you'll care about me._


	9. Turn Down For What

The morning sun rose and barely lit the living room from the tiny window in the kitchen. Natasha came out of the bedroom with her hair mused and wearing Clint's shorts and undershirt. She looked down on the men sleeping through the dim light and smiled. She smiled at Clint really, at his slack face dripping drool onto his arm. Loki slept with his arms around his face as well, like he was blocking a punch. And speaking of which-

"Rise and shine, boys," she said evenly.

Clint woke up with just her word, as if waiting for it the whole time. Loki awoke at Clint's voice instead.

"Hmm? What's going on now?" He rubbed sleep from his eyes and yawned.

"It's time to hit the gym- you've been out of it too long. Even though you're grounded, you need to be ready to get back in the game at any time."

Loki sat up and glared at her blearily as she turned away to change in the bedroom. Clint groaned and looked over at the god.

"Can you believe this? Comes over for a movie night and then expects me to sweat my ass off the next morning."

"She sounds like Thor," Loki confided and flipped the blanket off his legs, sweeping into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Clint chuckled at the comparison and got up as well, heading into his bedroom and entering without knocking. He caught a glimpse of the bottom of Natasha's breasts as she pulled her shirt on and passed her by to get his own clothes. She stayed in the room while he changed, sitting on the end of the bed.

"You're sleeping better," she noticed.

"Yep," Clint tugged a shirt over his head, "started when I went camping."

"When Loki showed up."

He had been pulling on his jeans and stopped mid-thigh, squinting his eyes at the back of her head. "Does that matter?"

"I don't know," she muttered. "Does it?" She looked over her shoulder at him calmly but pointedly. Clint pulled his pants on all the way and played it off as he buttoned them up.

"You think you know something, but there's nothing to know," he said and then stood fully dressed and watching her. She looked back and then nodded, getting up.

"Okay." And she left the room.

Clint watched her go with nervousness, though he wasn't sure why he should be. Natasha had tried to get him to spill some kind of telling information about he and Loki, but as he'd said, there was nothing to tell. But when he'd said it, he felt slightly like he was lying. He knocked on the bathroom door and entered when given permission by the god still occupying it. Loki was rolling up the sleeves of his shirt when he entered and grabbed his toothbrush, slathering it with toothpaste and shoving it in his mouth. He brushed with jerky movements, keeping his eyes away from the mirror.

"You seem agitated."

The archer huffed through his brushing and spit and rinsed, drying his mouth on a hand towel.

"Don't worry about it," he snipped and left the bathroom.

Clint and Loki rode the bike to headquarters, Natasha taking her car and leading the way. When they parked in the garage and met at the elevator, Clint voiced his concerns about Loki in the gym.

"I just think everyone's gonna start wiggin' out- gym's kind of a personal place for a lot of people. It's hard to keep an eye on him when we're sparring, what if someone starts losing their shit?"

Natasha stepped into the elevator first and stood in the corner while the others filed in behind her. "That's why we're here now. The only time the gym is empty is during chow. Nobody misses chow."

Clint snorted and shook his head. "Okay, whatever you say."

They didn't have to wait long in the elevator, but it was enough time for Clint to remember he and Loki had been in this same place just yesterday, where'd they been about to tear each other apart. He looked up at Loki's face, finding a scab on the edge of his lip where his fist had connected with it. Loki seemed to have had the same thoughts as he looked down at him as well, and he smirked.

"Do we need to fight again before we reach our destination?"

Clint chuckled. "No, I think we're okay."

Loki chuckled as well and nodded, exiting the elevator when it dinged and opened it's doors automatically.

Natasha had been right, of course, the gym was empty but for one guy on a treadmill, headphones on and not even noticing their presence. Clint took Loki into the locker room with him while Natasha went to change in the women's. He led the way to his locker, to the drawn-on arrows of his number, and he groaned as he opened the locker and pulled out his sweatpants. Loki stood, a little dumbfounded as he watched the archer shuck off his pants and step into his sweats. He'd seen Clint in this state of undress before, while living in the forest that week, and sometimes in the mornings when he declined to get dressed right away. But the thick and damp air of the lockers, the scent of fresh sweat, made Loki glance away from the sight of Clint's bare back. He turned to to stare down at the lockers until the heat in his cheeks faded away. He followed dutifully behind the archer when he was ready, trying to keep his gaze on his feet rather than the naked arms ahead of him.

Natasha was waiting for them on the mats, wrapping her knuckles with black fabric. Clint snickered when he saw her and stood beside her to stretch. He'd pointed Loki to the edge of the mats where there was a bench to wait. The agents sat together and leaned forward in tandem to touch their toes.

"You and those booty-shorts," Clint said with a smile. "You tease every guy here with those, you know."

"It's a distraction technique," she told him, and they got up to raise their arms up and down, holding them straight against their chests, twisting around their own bodies. "They're more likely to make mistakes when they're trying to get a glimpse of some ass. You know that."

"Oh, I know, it just makes me laugh every time anyways."

They took deep breaths and took a few steps away from each other, getting their final stretches in and psyching themselves up for a fight. Clint readied himself into a stance, legs bent and fists up, waiting. Natasha stood like she was unaware of the situation, completely vulnerable to attack. But Clint knew this was her style- she preferred to look unassuming, it was how she took people down.

She stared him down, breathing evenly and slowly, and he glared at her, squeezing his fists harder as she unnerved him. Loki scrutinized their poses and was also unnerved by Natasha's nonchalance, especially when she started to sway side to side with a pretty smile, like she could hear some sweet love song no one else could.

She sprung with a kick that Clint blocked with a grab of her ankle and jabbed his fist in the back of her knee to bend her to the mat. She caught herself with both hands above her head and shoved her other foot into his chest to kick off him and flip away. Clint grunted and staggered back a step to ready himself again just as she lunged at him with a fist held back for a punch. He twisted to ram his shoulder into the hit and dug his elbow into her ribs, making her double over but brace herself on the floor again to raise a kick between his legs. The pain shooting through Clint's groin made him gasp and fall to his knees on the mat. He knew he should try to retaliate, the fight wasn't over, but he groaned low in his throat and he squeezed his eyes shut anyways, reaching to cup himself and will the pain away. Natasha panted and scooted out from between his legs, letting the archer recover.

"Dick move, Nat," he hissed and lightly squeezed himself, testing if he was okay to get up again. "You know other guys don't usually do the groin shot."

"I'm not your usual guy," she quipped and got up. "Ready to go again?"

Clint blew out his cheeks in a big exhale, steeling himself for another round. He rose shakily and shook himself, getting into his stance again. They both quieted their panting as they waited for an opening, starting to circle each other like animals.

"You realize," Loki piped up from his seat on the bench, "he will pull no punches now."

Natasha quirked her lips in a sneer, hoping for just what Loki had said.

"He will destroy you, little spider."

She flickered her eyes towards the god and Clint surged forward to punch the side of her chest, bending the wire of her bra under her shirt into her ribs. She retaliated with an elbow against his cheek, but Clint kept up his movements, hooking one leg around the back of her knee again and sending her to the floor, but her knees didn't even hit the mat before she braced herself against it and knocked the archer back with both feet to his hips. He stumbled and Natasha used this moment to rise and get a running jump and wrap her legs around his head. Clint's face jammed into her crotch and he stumbled again and fell to his knees as she adjusted her position and strangled him with her pubic bone crushed against his windpipe. Clint grabbed her ass in one hand as he struggled against her, pushing himself forward to slam her onto her back and shove the air out of her. She kept her strangle-hold on him through it, even going so far as to jerk her legs and crack his neck a little. Clint groaned and started to get lightheaded, knowing he would be unconscious soon if he didn't try to get her off him. He found that he didn't really know what to do, and settled for trying to struggle out of the chokehold, reaching to dig his nails into her sides and scrape them down, bringing them back up to do it again and again. Natasha arched her back to push her bones further into his throat and Clint reached behind her to grip the strap of her bra. He found a dagger sheathed under it and whipped it out in a last ditch for his consciousness. He jabbed the tip of the knife against her soft sides just over her kidney, making her freeze up. She released the muscles in her thighs and Clint heaved a ragged gasp into his lungs as he pulled his head away from her crotch. He pushed her legs down around him and sat up, tossing the dagger down onto the mat beside her.

"Really?" He panted with disbelief and she merely shrugged and continued to lie on the mat with her legs wrapped loosely around his hips. He'd never been on the receiving end of her chokehold and he understood then why the victim just took it. Your life was being choked out of you by a woman's crotch, the woman being attractive but scary enough that it looked as though she was going to eat you alive.

The redhead grabbed the knife as she got up and sheathed it in the back of her bra again. "Keeps you on your toes, doesn't it? I thought you were going to let me knock you out."

"I almost did! Ugh, I gotta take a break- that's too much." He started to walk away to sit next to Loki, who had watched with fearful fascination.

"Why don't you spar with him instead?" Natasha suggested and walked past Clint to the bench.

Loki jerked his head up with wide eyes. Clint stopped short and chuckled nervously.

"Uh, I don't think so."

"Well, if you don't think you can beat him..." Natasha trailed off with a teasing tone.

"I'm not falling for that 'questioning my masculinity' thing- I can beat him, but I don't want to fight him."

She watched him carefully, the gears turning behind her eyes, and Clint was wary of it.

"I would agree that under these circumstances Agent Barton can easily defeat me," Loki offered to save Clint from his embarrassment. "I'm not a physical warrior- I deal in magic and knives. Spears and the like."

Natasha grunted at the men got up. "Pussies. Let's work out then." She began to head over to the weights and turned to beckon the others. "You have no choice," she pointed at the god. "You work out or you get to be Clint's bench rest."

Loki rose to follow them reluctantly. "I thought you said I had no choice."

Natasha sniggered and turned away, settling herself on the grey seat of a weight machine and changing the weight settings before throwing herself into the workout, using her legs to lift. Clint snorted and turned to the god.

"Ever used any of these?"

"Of course not."

"Okay, then you get to start here- chest press. Take off your shirt."

Loki furrowed his brows in confusion. "Why?"

"Because you're gonna get sweaty and it's a dress shirt. You can leave your wife-beater on."

Loki hesitantly unbuttoned his shirt and draped it over a bench, revealing his bare pale chest to the archer. Clint's brows shot up.

"No wife-beater?"

"I don't know what that is."

"It's- You know, never mind." Clint pointed to the seat between the metal arms of the machine and told the god to sit. He explained the function of the chest press and showed him the weights and the peg that adjusted how much would be lifted. He selected a general weight for someone Loki's size and told him to push out his arms gently. He lifted it too easily, jerking his arms forward at having expected a hefty resistance and met with nothing. Clint humphed, and moved the peg down further on the weight blocks, telling Loki to lift again. They adjusted the weight a couple more times until they were both satisfied with the resistance level. Clint whistled, impressed, and settled himself on the machine beside the god, picking a weight and lifting as well.

After a few reps he called over to Natasha, voice echoing a little with the space of the gym.

"Hey, you have the music controls over there?"

He heard the clang of the weights and Natasha's sigh of relief from the work. She hummed and looked around, finding the remote and clicking the power button, pressing the volume buttons repeatedly until the gym started to fill up with loud beats from the speakers set around the room.

"Thanks," he called back and continued to lift.

Loki slowed in his chest presses and lifted his head to listen to the music that boomed against his chest. He looked over at Clint who noticed his turn and nodded his head in silent question, but Loki just shook his head and went back to the workout. Clint didn't lift again, taking the moment to watch the wiry muscles of Loki's arms stretch, his pecs flex. He found himself staring and shook himself out of it, getting up to move the god to another machine and work another set of muscles. Another few set of reps on this and then Clint moved him again, bringing him to the free weights and letting him pick a comfortable weight for himself, which happened to be a set of giant dumbbells. He had the god lie back on a bench and demonstrated on him what his next moves were.

"So, hold these up back here behind your head. Right, yup, now just use these muscles here-" Clint tapped the skin on the back of Loki's upper arms- "to bring them up above your head. Yes- well, wait now, don't use the momentum to bring them up and down; we're not jerking off here."

He wrapped his hands around Loki's over the dumbbells and sat on the floor behind his head, guiding the god with the kind of movement he should have. After a few moments Clint released his hands and got up hastily, picking his own bars and kneeling on the next bench to begin his sets. He looked up at the mirrors lining the walls and checked his form, and then he glanced at the god and looked away just as quickly, huffing hard and lifting a little faster. He shook his head and told himself to just listen to the music, concentrate on his reps. Another booming song pounded through the speakers, vibrating the mirrors slightly. He listened to the words as he counted his reps, panting the numbers quietly on occasion when he became tired. The song wasn't even halfway over when he yelled at Natasha to skip it.

"What's the matter-" she teased as she came over to the barbell nearby and loaded the weights onto it- "don't like Katy?"

He grunted and rolled his eyes as he switched arms. "Just not into music about magic right now."

"Mm-hm," She hummed knowingly.

Loki sat up and rested his arms, hanging his head down and his hands between his knees. The song changed as Clint requested and played another bass heavy tune, this one with banjoes or ukulele's strumming on occasion to offset it. Sometimes brass played in the style of the roaring 20's. Strange combination, Clint thought, but it fit well. He went for a few more sets in his position and then rested as well, sitting on the edge of the bench and taking long breaths through his nose. He looked up at the god who still let his head hang.

"We done here?" the archer asked him.

The god nodded without looking up.

Clint beckoned the god to follow him and he did so wearily. "We're gonna hit the showers," he shouted as they passed by Natasha.

The music died down as they entered the locker rooms, still discernible, but not quite so heavy as it had been. Clint grabbed two towels off the rack as they went to his locker again, tossing them onto the benches and beginning to peel off his sweat-soaked shirt. He started on the strings of his sweatpants and looked up distractedly at the god who'd suddenly turned and found something more interesting to look at. He knew what was happening, having remembered the time in the forest when he'd come back to camp and found Loki having showered while he was gone.

"Want me to go in first?" He offered. "I ain't gonna look, if that's what's bugging you."

Loki shook his head. "No, but you may go."

Clint stared at the god curiously and then he dropped his pants and grabbed one of the towels, walking away from him. He threw the towel over the half-wall that separated the showers from the lockers and padded over to the far wall, turning the dials until the water shooting out of the shower head was hot and steaming. He stepped into the spray face first, letting it stream down his chin and onto his chest, spritzing tiny droplets onto his arms. He bent his head and ran his fingers through his hair to wet it and blindly reached forward for the shampoo on the wall. The sound of another shower squeaking to life alerted him to Loki's entrance. He lathered the shampoo in his hair roughly, forcing his eyes shut hard. He wanted to tell himself it was so the suds wouldn't get into his eyes, but he finally admitted it- he wanted to look and he'd told Loki he wouldn't. He'd already seen the god's chest and arms, sinewy and firm, and he couldn't believe himself but Clint wanted to see the rest. See if the rest of him was just the same. He sighed, exasperated at himself, and leaned his hands against the tiled wall, letting his head hang in the spray of water and wash away the shampoo.

In the soft echoes of the showers, Loki spoke as he lathered up.

"There is something we're not speaking of," he announced.

"Making things awkward?"

"Mm-hm." The god rubbed the soap he discovered between his hands under the water.

Clint squirted some conditioner into his hand and slung it into his hair haphazardly before moving for the soap in his shower's wall alcove.

"Well, I'm all about things not being awkward, but you go first."

Loki was pensive as he rubbed the soap over himself, judging how to go about setting their minds at ease.

"We are both experiencing forbidden attraction," he finally decided with a nod. "And we thought the other had no notion of it, but now we do."

"'Forbidden attraction'," Clint muttered as he rubbed himself down with the soap and rinsed it off quickly. He stood under the downpour of the shower, clean, but not wanting to leave the odd security of the water. "So what are we going to do?"

"Since we both know about this attraction, we have a few options. We could admit it to each other and carry on in the manner of a newly-met pair becoming familiar. We could confess still and choose to not act on the feelings. Or we may not admit to anything, and continue on as we have been, creating awkward situations and not talking about anything."

Clint groaned and swiped his sopping hair away from his face, staring up at the ceiling while the scalding water turned his skin red. "Fuck. I don't like this weird shit we're doing, number three's out. But..." He sighed and closed his eyes. "I feel like this is so easy for you, but for me- it'd be easy if you weren't the guy who brainwashed me and had me kill other people, other agents."

"No one would need know about any of this outside of you and me," Loki reassured softly. "SHIELD would know nothing, if that's your concern."

"It is." Clint felt a little like a weight had been lifted from him with how easily Loki addressed his worries and soothed them.

"Then what is your decision?"

The archer shook his head, "I can't admit and not act, I'd slip up and then we'd be weird again."

"Then you know what you want, don't you?"

"I don't know exactly what I want, but I want to try to know."

Loki smiled gently down at the white tiles of the shower floor and Clint, at the far end of the showers, heaved a heavy sigh as the weight was lifted from his chest and he looked up at the ceiling again.

"Loki," he croaked, bewildered at what he was going to say, his heart was leaping into his throat. "Even though you brainwashed me, had me kill my coworkers, made me scrape and steal for you, and help you invade the planet with vicious aliens..." He sighed again and looked at the god over his shoulder, "I have feelings for you."

Loki met his eye from his spot under the spray of water and nodded in acknowledgement of Clint's confession. He looked away to the tiles to say his piece and Clint let him have the privacy of the moment, but not before stealing a glance at the god's naked ass first.

"Agent Barton-"

"I think you can call me by my name now."

"May I have my say without interruption please?"

"Sorry."

Loki huffed and started again. " _Clint_ , even though I am bound to your side as partial punishment for the offenses you already outlined, and even though you brutally attacked me and pierced my hand with an arrow, and no doubt told your agents what a disgusting and abhorrent person I am- I have feelings for you as well."

The water sloshing to the floor was the only sound for a few moments while the two contemplated their words and what it would mean for them in the future. Clint didn't like looking to the future much, he preferred to live in the moment, and he dealt with this just the same. He wouldn't try to think of what could happen, he'd deal with events as they unfolded, just as he did with everything else in his life.

"Ready to go home?"

"Please. My arms ache."

Clint chuckled breathlessly and turned the shower off, hearing Loki do the same with the squeaks of the dials. They turned to gather their towels, and Clint froze when he remembered the god was just as naked as himself. He did his best to keep his eyes above the waist, but Loki offered him no such privacy, letting his gaze wander all the way down Clint's stout body to his toes and back up. He ambled away and wrapped the towel around his hips, leaving Clint flushing from head to toe at the looking over the god gave him. He followed quickly and started drying off, tugging on his clothes in the damp air.

"At least we got the 'changing in front of each other' thing out of the way," Clint said with chuckle, trying to ease his nervousness.

The sound of the locker room doors opening prompted a little fear from Clint, he shut his locker quickly and touched the god's elbow as he strode away, wanting to get Loki out of the headquarters.

"Come on."

They dodged the agents entering the lockers, getting changed for their own workouts, and hurried out of the gym, Clint waving goodbye to Natasha when she waved. They took the elevator down to the garage and found his motorcycle amidst the crowd of vehicles. The blond mounted the bike and used the sleeve of his sweater to wipe dust off his helmet visor while Loki climbed on behind him. His heart skipped a beat when the god's hands slipped onto his hips with a gentle grip. Clint looked down at the long fingers over his jeans and took a deep, calming breath.

"Oh, boy."

"You commanded I hold you here at all times," Loki reminded him quietly, but Clint couldn't see the smirk on his face.

"No, yeah- it's all good. It's all about safety, and this is totally not weird." He stuffed his head into the helmet and patted Loki on the hand, leaving it there for more than a necessary moment.

"Not weird at all."

He kicked the bike to life and when Loki scooted closer to him, finally fitting on the seat completely and touching back to chest, Clint revved the engine in a startled reaction. He felt the god's deep chuckle against his back and he shook his head, speeding them out of the garage.

Clint drove them leisurely through the city, not making a fuss about the traffic or when someone wasn't paying attention and made them miss a light. He felt safer in the mad rush of the city, all the people who didn't know who he or Loki were and paid them no special attention. When they stopped at a red light, Clint would steady the bike with his boots on the road and he reached down hesitantly to lay his hand over Loki's, rubbing his thumb over his skin. Loki leaned his forehead against the back of the helmet.

The light turned green and Clint gave the intersecting street a glance before lifting off and starting through the intersection. A check of his mirrors and he'd memorized the cars in his vicinity. Silver Prius, red F1-50, yellow Camaro, black Mustang, red Civic. They would change at the next light, but his training had conditioned him to keep an eye out no matter where he was. The only place he let his guard down was at home. He slowed the motorcycle to another light and steadied it with his feet on the ground again, looking down when Loki's hand creeped onto his thigh. He straightened up and watched the street lights, taking one hand away from the handlebar and setting it atop Loki's hand again, nestling his fingers in between the god's. This was a distraction, and a dangerous one at that, for the ride home, and Clint found himself wondering just how far Loki would push their new boundaries.

The light went green again and Clint checked the cars around him again as he waited for the line to start moving. Green Wrangler, purple Miata, black Mustang, white Sonata, beige Optima. He put his hand back on the handlebar and moved them through the intersection. Loki moved his hand onto his hip again.

They rode through a few lights, keeping the traffic moving, and Clint kept an eye on his mirrors. Black Mustang. It was still within his sights, even all these blocks later. Clint tried not to tense up, knowing it could very well be some guy just happening to be on the street with him, going home from work. The vehicle slowly weaved through the traffic and soon drove directly behind him. It had black out windows- illegal if you didn't have a permit or usually a limousine. He looked ahead again, coming close to another light. It turned yellow and Clint leaned forward and zoomed the bike through the intersection just as it flicked up to red. He didn't need to look in his mirrors to know the car had followed him out- horns honked and the Mustang revved up behind him, creeping up close enough to touch and then backing off a few feet before doing it again. Loki's grip on Clint's hips turned painful with the frantic speed and he shouted at him through the helmet.

"What's wrong?" Loki glanced behind him at the noise of the Mustang and turned back around immediately.

Clint knew he'd looked and figured out just what was wrong.

"Who are they?"

Clint shook his head in answer that he didn't know, but when the window of the car slid down and the muzzle of a gun peeked out, he swerved instantly as the shot rang out, skipping between the cars of the next lane. Loki ducked at the sound of the gun and wrapped his arms around Clint's middle, holding on tight while the agent weaved them through the traffic, trying to lose the Mustang in the crowd though it had begun to thin out, making it a simple matter of clipping cars as it passed to get to them.

They had driven onto a partial residential road, homes on the right and small buildings of shops on the left, as they leaned into a tight corner and dodged a hail of bullets from the Mustang. Clint kicked the bike into high gear and sped through the street, no longer watching his mirrors but turning his body to see the car veer onto their tail again. As he turned back to the front he caught a glimpse of something giant and dark between the old boxy houses- a black van, nondescript and sporting reflective black windows, speeding up the crossing street towards them. It barreled down the center of the street, forcing oncoming cars to swerve around it and bumping the one's going in it's direction onto the sidewalks. Clint looked towards the intersection and realized he had no time to alter his course; the van was going to ram them. He gripped the bars tight and ran the bike harder, pushing them faster.

He heard the Mustang screech to a halt and he watched the van speed right up to the side of the bike and skid the tires as it turned into them, punching the bike off the road in an explosion of dust and metal, flinging Loki away to tumble and scrape against the concrete like a rag doll. Clint had somehow held onto the motorcycle and gripped the bars like it meant his life as his leg was crushed underneath, arm and leg sliding against the road as the bike toppled and spun away from the van. All he could hear was the crush of metal and the grating noise of gravel on the side of his helmet.

When the bike's momentum slowed, Clint yelled behind his teeth as he pulled himself out from under the bike and crawled a foot away, his leg feeling numb and pulsing pain at the same time. He shoved the helmet off and panted as he glanced over at the van, which had the window open and the driver was arguing with the two who had gotten out of the Mustang, standing between the two vehicles. They shouted and gestured, accusing the other of not knowing how to ram another car correctly. Clint searched the debris for Loki and found him across the street, huddled against the curb and shakily raising himself up on his arms, groaning open mouthed at the pain in his body. The archer half crawled, half hobbled over to him and shakily brought Loki to his feet, panting at him that they had to go and limped down an alley while the pursuant's still argued amongst each other. Clint made them twist and turn down the back alley roads between businesses before turning into an open door, startling the Islamic family inside. Clint heaved and huffed with Loki as they paused for only a second and then hobbled past them through the kitchen and up the stairs, hearing the men starting to shout and pursue them on foot. He shoved Loki through the first door they came across and slammed the door, locking it with the meager push-button on the knob. He fished his phone out of his pants pocket and staggered over to the window, dropping to his knees and peeking over the sill while the phone dialed.

Loki also fell to the floor, leaning on the side of his legs as he caught his breath. He was cut everywhere, skin scraped away and some still left hanging on him in small sheafs. He panted and ran his hand over his face, pulling away to find it bloody. He looked over at Clint when he started muttering into his phone, and his face paled as he saw his left arm scraped and cut, and leg skinned to the muscle beside his knee, both dripping blood onto the carpet.

"Nat!" Clint panted in relief when the phone picked up. "'Royal Red', royal-fucking-red, Nat, I need backup!"

Loki crawled painfully over to Clint and ripped a sheet off of the bed behind them, tearing it apart and starting to wrap it hastily around the archer's knee. Clint jumped at the sudden attention, grabbing Loki's wrist in unthinking reaction, but he released the god when he realized what he was doing and he reached up to grip the back of his neck, pulling their foreheads together.

"You got my location? Okay, I-" he glanced over the edge of the window again and ducked back down just as quickly. "Fuck, there's more. You're what?" He looked at Loki without really seeing him, calculating. "Goddamn it! You knew?! I- Yeah, he's here. He's banged up, I didn't have time to assess how bad."

He began to gasp heavily, wheezing with every breath, leaning against the wall. Loki fastened the makeshift bandage as tight as he could, cursing when the blood simply soaked through it. Clint groaned and squeezed his eyes tight as he became lightheaded from the blood loss. He started to slip backwards and Loki slowed his fall to the floor, cushioning his head with his hand. The archer gripped Loki's thigh and panted as he passed out, dropping the phone.

Loki grabbed it and put it to his ear, hearing the tail end of Natasha's questioning.

"Listen to me, you unctuous, pining wench," he hissed into the phone. "You will send rescue and reinforcements this very moment or I will cut open your belly and loose a nest of snakes into your gore!"

He tossed the phone onto the floor and heaved a heavy sigh, placing his hand over Clint's wrapped wound and he waited.


	10. Getting Late

Sounds faded in with multiple tones, some screaming shrilly close by and others moaning deep and far away. They became coherent soon, distinguishing themselves into beeps and voices, and Clint peeled his eyes open to be greeted with a dark room, shoots of white light laying against the ceiling like a painting of the sun's rays. He breathed deep and blinked slowly, pulling his mind together to place himself. Those beeps became slightly faster at his awakening, and he groaned as he realized the white ceiling and low voices from it put him in a hospital. Those beeps, he hated them. He reached to pull off the sticky papers that hooked him to the machine and found his arm restrained to the bed. When he lifted his head with a creaking in his neck he saw the tube of red poking under a white strip of tape in the crook of his elbow. His other arm wrapped in gauze and tape and felt numb.

Over the top of his bandaged arm he saw Loki, sitting in a chair against the wall, watching him hopefully. The god rose and went to his side, face darkened in the shadows of the pulled curtain that separated them from the rest of the hospital. He put his hand over Clint's gently, and the archer turned his palm up to hold his fingers. He licked his lips to wet them.

"I take it we got out," he croaked.

Loki took a breath and nodded once. "I had a few choice words for Agent Romanov, but she proved her loyalty to you and took us away from the fight."

"You call her names again? She told me about the first one."

"Mm. Well, perhaps she will tell you this one also."

He sighed and gripped Clint's hand gently. Clint squeezed the fingers pressing into his palm and looked up at the shadowed figure above him, remembering the fear he'd felt but hadn't the time to acknowledge when he came upon the god tossed into the gutter and bleeding on the street. Pieces of metal and plastic flung around him from the impact of the crash. He remembered the god's bleeding face and ripped skin when he'd pulled their heads together, wondering what the hell was happening.

Loki seemed to know what he was thinking, reaching up to stroke back Clint's hair and leaning his forehead against his again with a soft sigh through his nose. Clint closed his eyes and felt the god's breath against his cheek, his skin tingling at the near touch of Loki's face against his. He turned and brushed his lips against the corner of Loki's mouth as the curtain swished open and the room flooded with light. Loki jumped away at the sound and released Clint's hand as a nurse sashayed into the room.

She looked at Loki with surprise and stopped in her tracks, clutching her clipboard in her arms.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know you were in here- we would've left the light on for you."

Loki waved her apology away. "It's fine, it was too bright anyway."

She nodded at his dismissal and moved to the gurney, setting her clipboard on the counter and turning to switch off the IV. She gathered a small square of gauze and pressed it over the entry point of the tube in Clint's arm, sliding the needle out quickly and setting it aside as she grabbed a piece of tape and tacked the gauze down over the puncture. Clint read the badge hanging from her shirt pocket. Her name was Caroline James.

"The Doc. says you're ready to go," she said and pulled down her clipboard, pulling a pen out from the messy bun behind her head and starting to scribble.

"This is a prescription for some painkillers- Percocet- from the Doc. Instructions are on the bottle, but the pharmacist is going to go over it with you too." She got a serious look on her face and pointed at Clint with her pen. "Don't abuse it! You don't want to live through a life of addiction and then the withdrawals when suddenly you can't get your fix. Take it from a former junkie, okay?" With that, she tapped her pen on the inside of her elbow, drawing their attention to her needle scars. She suddenly smiled and got up, laying the prescription paper on Clint's blanket covered lap.

"Your friend is here to take you home; I'll send her in."

And she left the two in the room again, swinging the curtain closed and flicking on the light.

"Hm. Colorful kid," Clint assessed. Loki nodded in agreement.

Natasha slipped through the curtain then, rolling a wheelchair out in front of her and up to the gurney, bouncing Loki out of the way with her hip. He growled at her quietly but allowed her a moment to look over the archer herself.

She looked at him, unimpressed. "You're embarrassing."

Clint sputtered and sat up slowly. "Excuse me?"

"You could've handled them- it was only a few grunts. But instead you got thrown from your bike, chased into a stranger's house and huddled by the bed before he had to carry your unconscious body to safety."

"I was unarmed! And toting around an injured civilian- this civilian!" He pointed at Loki indignantly.

"Mm-hm." She didn't care.

Clint sighed in exasperation and slid out of the bed, bracing his good leg on the floor and letting his injured one hang. The blanket fell away and Clint cursed as the cold air of the hospital swatted him on the butt.

"Damn it, where are my clothes?" He snapped.

"They cut them off of you," Loki told him and he groaned in response.

Natasha tossed the sweats and shirt she had on the seat of the wheelchair onto the bed. Clint swiveled to see them and he looked at her apologetically. She smiled.

"Love me again?"

"I never stopped, you just bug me sometimes."

He dressed slowly and with some difficulty, trying to get his injured arm and leg into the clothes, but he managed and then he sat in the wheelchair with a lot of protest, and Natasha wheeled him out, Loki following behind.

Clint got his painkillers, and was wheeled out of the hospital to a sedan parked right outside the doors. Natasha opened the passenger door and let Clint load himself in. Loki followed suit, grumbling when he bumped his head on the padded roof. Clint shut his door and Natasha left to return the wheelchair into the hospital.

Clint wiggled in his seat to look over his shoulder at the god in the back seat. He had gauze taped to the side of his face, from the corner of his eye to his ear, but it didn't hide all of the scrape- it scrabbled out across the front of his cheek from under the bandage and was fiery red like shooting stars.

"You okay?"

"I'm bruised and scraped; nothing like your injuries."

"Doesn't mean you don't hurt," Clint reminded him, turning back to the front when he saw Natasha returning. "You need any pills, you let me know."

The redhead slipped into the driver's seat and started the car and she began winding them through the parking lot and out onto the streets.

"Here's the deal," she began, keeping her eyes on the road. "You can't go back to your apartment yet."

"Because of the ambush?"

"Mm, partly." She took a deep breath and prepared herself for a long winded explanation. "There were contract killers waiting for you in your apartment. Fury and I knew about it and that's why I came over and got you out the next day."

Clint huffed and leaned his head against the window, staring out at the passing city like none of this information pertained to his life.

"Fury sent a team to halt the attack while we were in the gym. My job was to keep you two out of the apartment until the men were apprehended." She clicked her tongue. "We didn't think there'd be a team to ambush you on the streets. Maybe some of them from the apartment split off when you didn't show up and they cruised the area watching for you."

Loki sat forward to put himself between the front seats and he furrowed his brows. Natasha leaned away from him as inconspicuously as she could.

"You say Fury and yourself were aware there would be an attack- why not simply inform us? I believe you could have prevented Agent Barton's grievous injuries had we known."

"Fury's thought was that you'd try to catch the killers off guard and handle the situation yourself. It would've been a bad plan."

Clint groaned and half rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered to drop the subject. "So where are we going instead?"

"Stark Tower."

Loki leaned back against the seats limply, dipping his head back to rest on the rear shelf of the car and sighing hard. Clint snickered at the sound and felt his displeasure.

"Right?" he said to the god behind him. "Just when you thought your life couldn't get any worse." He shook his head and chuckled and they waited out the rest of the ride in silence.

Clint wrapped his arm around Natasha's shoulder and settled most of his weight against her as she helped him hobble into the tower. Loki followed behind warily, glancing up at the tower and its singular 'A' at the top apprehensively. They loaded into the elevator and Natasha punched in a code on the pad inside, allowing them access to the living floors at the very top of the building. As the elevator rose to their destination, the speakers suddenly came to life with voice.

"Welcome back, Agent Romanov, Agent Barton," the dulcet male voice greeted.

Natasha didn't look up to the ceiling to respond, but she always had to fight the urge to do so. "JARVIS, you noticed Loki's reclassification as a neutral party in SHIELD's files, right?"

There's silence for a second and Loki looked surprised at Natasha's words.

"Yes," the voice returned. "That is correct."

"Have Stark and Rogers meet us in the common area, we have to talk."

"They will be there."

Clint scoffed but said nothing, leaning against the redhead as they rose to the top of the tower.

When the doors opened and the group limped into the common room, tiled with glass and steel, Clint broke away from the other agent to drop into the closest of the light grey sofas with a groan of approval. Loki sat in the couch across from him, a metal coffee table between them with a vase of intricate glass flowers. He stretched his legs and leaned his elbow on the arm rest, gazing out of the floor-to-ceiling windows at the skyline of New York. Natasha settled on the coffee table with one leg crossed over the other and took glances over her shoulder at Clint and Loki. The elevator dinged across the room behind Clint's couch and the doors slid open, letting Tony Stark enter the room followed closely by Steve Rogers. The sharply bearded man gabbed with increasing excitement at the man behind him, looking up to find Loki in his direct line of sight. Tony's speech snapped off and he swiveled around instantly to walk right back into the elevator, smacking his nose into Steve's broad chest. Steve grabbed the smaller man by the arms to steady him, confused for a moment by Tony's sudden turn and his expression of bewilderment. He finally noticed the god seated on the sofa and stared.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Tony mumbled into Steve's chest. "Pretty sure we sent him away with all the fancy glowing blue stuff, right- I have footage somewhere probably. You're seeing what I'm seeing right?"

Steve swallowed hard and nodded slowly, not taking his eyes away from Loki's. "I see him, Tony."

From his spot on the couch, Clint sighed loudly and spoke up. "Can you guys get over here, please? I can't get up right now."

Natasha stood then and Steve steered Tony over to her, going the long way behind the couch to keep it between them and Loki. The god had lost interest and turned back to the windows, watching the sun fall behind the buildings.

"Steve-" Natasha began and he cut her off.

"What's going on here?"

Tony caught sight of Clint and squinted at him hard, searching his eyes for the blue glow of the Tesseract. "JARVIS, what's he doing here?"

"Loki has been reclassified into neutrality in SHIELD's files, sir. He accompanied Agents Romanov and Barton into the tower."

"That didn't answer the question."

"He's here as punishment," Natasha asserted.

The two men looked confused, shocked, doubtful, but Natasha laid out the details of Odin's decree, trying to set them at ease as quickly as possible. Clint and Loki tried to listen, but they were tiring and grew bored.

"How many times do you think we'll have to explain this shit?" Clint complained quietly with a tilt to his lips. Loki just smirked and continued to look out the windows. Natasha's voice was a monotonous tone in the background, going through the circumstances of their injuries and then why they were in Tony's tower.

"Are you kidding? It's a quarter fucking mile," Tony exclaimed. "He can sleep outside!"

"No!" Clint shouted with panic, drawing all their eyes to him. He made his face serious, trying to hide his alarm. "He stays with me."

Tony turned to Natasha with concern. "Has he been tested? I feel like there's some glow-stick shit happening here; it's making me nervous."

Natasha puts his worries to rest, shaking her head and explaining. Steve listened without asking questions, glancing at Loki every now and then only to find that the god was paying them no mind.

He was though. Loki had listened to it all, growing increasingly agitated. His cuts burned and his body ached, and then to be nervous about staying in a former enemy's home, one that he'd tried to take over... It had been a long day. After Clint's outburst, he'd decided they had enough, and he stood up gracefully, keeping himself erect in front of the heroes though he felt as though he couldn't stand straight enough through his pain.

"I'm tired from this entire day- where may I sleep? Do you prefer me on the couch?"

Tony was at a loss for words, not wanting the god to be in his tower at all, let alone sleeping in it. Steve helped out, finding himself wary, but adjusting to the situation slowly.

"There's a room up the stairs." Steve pointed to the small flight of steel steps leading to a second layer of the floor. "This is two floors connected. There's a spare up there. Bathroom too, I think."

Tony gave Steve a disbelieving look of betrayal and the tall blond spoke to him quietly.

"Come on, Tony- He doesn't have any magic; he won't do anything. Clint's here too, been watching over him all this time. At least if he stays on this floor, he's away from you. You won't have to see him."

Tony tried to fight it for a moment, but he relented and let his arms hang limply at his sides before pivoting to take off into the elevator.

"Whatever," he muttered. "Keep your fucking pet away from my labs, Barton." The doors of the elevator closed and Steve released a breath of exasperation, going to apologize to Clint for Tony, but the elevator opened again. Tony stuck his head out and pointed across the room to the bar.

"And stay out of my liquor! I offered you a drink last time but that was just threats- I still don't like you. And also, so much for my offering: Coulson's still dead. Some god you are."

He leaned back into the elevator and crossed his arms, letting the doors shut on their own and take him away. Loki glared in the man's wake, and Steve shook his head. Clint rolled his eyes angrily and Natasha looked unimpressed. She led Steve to sit on the couch while she sat herself on the low table again, and Clint got up, nearly falling but being caught by Loki's hand.

Clint huffed and told the god it was time to go, reaching around to hold onto him and limp away, staggering up the stairs with his flesh-and-blood crutch. They opened all the doors until they came across the bedroom, and then they shut out the quiet voices of Natasha and Steve who continued to talk. The two were bathed in darkness, only the nearly night sky and a half moon offering any visibility to the room. Clint released Loki and sagged onto the edge of the bed outlined in the light, groaning as the weight was taken off his bum leg again. He pulled the bottle of pills out of his sweatpants and jiggled it before prying it open, listening to the pills clack around inside the plastic tube. He tossed a pill in his mouth and swallowed it dry.

Loki ambled over to the giant window across the room, standing at the edge and catching lights flick on in the surrounding buildings as night fell. Clint shimmied carelessly out of his clothes, leaving his shorts on as usual, just wanting to crawl into bed and fade away. He moaned when he slipped between the sheets, relishing the cool against his skin and the squishy mattress. He turned his head on the pillow to watch Loki at the window still, now looking up into the sky.

"Do you see the same sky at home?" Clint asked.

Loki looked away, down at his feet, remembering. "No."

He turned away from the glass and began to undress, flinging his torn and bloodied shirt over a corner of the bed, and dropping his pants to the floor. In his underwear he stood stock still as he looked at the empty space in the bed beside Clint. The archer took in the sight of the pale moonlight illuminating Loki's white skin along his edges and his heart started beating a little faster. He averted his gaze to the other side of the room as the god climbed into the bed, waiting for him to get settled.

When it was silent and still, Clint turned his head again to see the ghost outline of Loki's cheek, knowing the god was looking at him too even though he couldn't see his eyes. The moonlight colored the god's hair silver and grey along its curves. Clint propped himself up and pushed Loki's shoulder to lie him on his back, hovering over him and watching the light flow over the valley of Loki's jaw and hill of his cheek like an ocean wave, catching one green eye brightly. He reached up to graze his fingertips over the marble skin and leaned down slowly, brushing his lips against the corner of Loki's in a parody of their interrupted moment in the hospital. His breath stuttered with the force of his heartbeat from the light touch, but he forced himself further and pressed his lips against Loki's fully, sharply inhaling as his skin crackled electric down his arms at the contact. He rubbed his thumb over Loki's cheek as the god responded to his kiss, moving into it and wrapping his hands around the back of the archer's head. Clint groaned and touched the tip of his tongue to Loki's lips and slipped it into the mouth as it opened to him, sliding it against the other waiting for him. He lowered his chest onto Loki's and let him run those long fingers down his sides, coming up to squeeze the muscles on either side of his spine. He hadn't realized he'd moved closer to the god until he moaned around Loki's tongue and jerked his hips against the taller man's thigh, rubbing his hard length against him. Loki panted into Clint's mouth and broke away, white skin flushed pink in the moonlight. He cupped Clint's jaw and touched their foreheads.

"We mustn't do this now," he breathed. "You're injured."

Clint tensed his jaw, trying his best to keep himself from grinding on the god again. "I'm not gonna feel it soon with all these meds on board."

"It doesn't matter. We won't be able to enjoy it fully with our injuries and with the careful watch I'm sure Stark is keeping on me." Loki placed another kiss on Clint's lips. "I want this as well, but this is all frantic passions of fear from our near loss today- I don't want you to regret this."

The archer closed his eyes and sighed, nodding in agreement, and sliding off the god, but keeping his wrapped up arm over the pale chest.

"I don't usually regret stuff. But if you want to wait, I guess I can do that."

Loki huffed and turned to face him, tracing a finger in a line down Clint's lips. "I don't want to push you away, but I have my reasons for doing so. Even simple kisses put us at risk under this roof- we will be watched constantly."

"There're no cameras in here, Loki."

"I know," he whispered.

"If you're not ready, all you have to do is say so."

The god sighed hard. "I'm ready, I want it- I want you, but..." He bit his lip as he thought. "I would prefer to wait until you're healed."

Clint nodded in understanding and conceded to his request, closing his eyes and inching closer to the god until their noses touched. "I heal fast."

Loki snorted softly, "I will be the judge of that, you lascivious beast." He kissed him again as the archer chuckled, and then gave him a light smack on the cheek when his hand wandered away down the god's stomach to the top of his briefs.

"I said wait- or you'll get nothing. Now sleep."

Clint calmed his chortling and kept his hands to himself. "Okay, Boss."


	11. Me & the Minibar

Clint's recovery in Stark Tower consisted of a lot of sitting around. The entire layer of flesh had been shredded away from the muscle on the side of his knee and, while he was capable of walking, the exposed muscle and nerves seared in pain and made his leg buckle. Only a few days into his stay in the tower he had tried to bear the pain, walking on his own up the stairs to the bathroom. He'd climbed several steps before the raw muscles twitched and he collapsed onto the steel, hissing and grimacing while he caught his breath to gather the strength to continue on. To his embarrassment, Loki had come out of the bedroom in concern after hearing the noise and rushed to his side to help him up, chastising him for moving on his own when he wasn't ready. Clint swatted him away and argued that he'd dealt with worse and that this little scrape was just throwing him off. He was a SHIELD operative, he could take it. Loki called him an idiot.

For the most part, the pair had been left to their own devices in the flat. No doubt Tony had peeked in on them through JARVIS' sensors, but he'd yet to make an appearance. Natasha brought Clint a suitcase of clothes and a couple personal effects- cell, headphones, charger.

Loki had removed the bandages from his face and frowned at the flurry of scabs swiping across his cheek like welding sparks. He worried he would have scars and Clint told him he wouldn't if he didn't pick at them, but that he kind of looked like a badass. The rest of his scrapes and cuts on his hands and elbows scabbed over as well, mostly painless. The bruise on his back from his impact against the edge of the curb ached when he bent over.

Steve showed up after a few days, coming across Clint reclined on the couch with a game controller in his hands, grunting excitedly at the hanging TV screen as he played war with other unseen people. Steve watched another player turn and blast Clint's character with a bazooka, effectively killing him.

"Ah, WeirdBeard, you dick!" Clint shouted at the screen, clicking buttons to revive himself at the rally point. "I'm on your fucking team- blue is friendly, red is enemy!"

Through the speakers around the room a young male voice whined back at him. "Shut the fuck up, man- it's not like it gives them extra kills."

Clint growled and tuned out the joining voices that called out commands and curses, shouting at the other players. Steve looked disappointed at the TV and moved to stand behind Clint's couch.

"Waste of a perfectly good bazooka."

Clint jumped and craned his neck to see the visitor, relaxing afterwards to turn back to his game.

"Hey, Cap. I didn't think you'd come down to see us; Tony hasn't."

"He was really attached to Phil," Steve said as if it explained everything. In a way, it did.

"Yeah, I didn't know they were so close."

"I didn't know you and Phil _weren't_ close."

Clint clicked a few buttons and backed out of the war, leaving the menu open, and he sat up gingerly with a groan. He patted the cushion next to him and Steve took the offer and sat. Clint tossed the controller onto the table with a clang. He leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling, Steve stared at the tabletop.

"Wondering why I'm okay with Loki being here? Everybody seems to like asking me about it."

"Because it's strange. You were controlled by him."

Loki appeared from a room on the main floor, coming into the common area with a sandwich in hand and reclining on his sofa opposite of Clint and Steve, looking up at the waiting TV screen. He offered no greeting to Steve.

Clint watched Loki take small bites from his sandwich before setting it on the table and reaching for the controller, inspecting it and pushing the buttons until something on the TV moved. He tested the controls, slowly figuring out the game on his own, looking intense with concentration.

"Controlled to do nothing out of the ordinary from what I usually do," Clint admitted. "I'm not happy that I killed other agents, killed civilians, but... Killing is my job. I was bummed when I heard about Coulson for sure; I liked the guy, he let me do whatever the hell I wanted, he trusted my decisions. But in my line of work, there's always that risk you won't come home. He knew that."

Steve considered the archer's feelings, watching Loki tap away on the controller. He moved the entire controller as he moved the character sometimes, like a child would. Like he himself had done when the Avengers tried to get him to play video games.

"If it makes you feel better, Captain," Loki said offhandedly, "Agent Barton already punished me for my actions against your beloved Phil Coulson."

Steve turned to Clint with an accusatory expression. "Punished you?" he asked Loki.

The god still played the game, shooting down his enemies with a look of conniving, but he spoke like they were playing.

"Oh, yes, beat me until my skin was flayed open, and even drove an arrow through my hand. Would you like to see the scar?"

"No," Steve rasped and looked at Clint again, who seemed far away in his own world. Steve was trying to imagine him rounding on the god and beating him senseless and found he couldn't. He couldn't imagine Loki just taking it either.

Clint was listening like a child being scolded by his parents, acting as though the conversation didn't include him. He watched Loki's character on the screen obliterate enemy soldiers. Steve seemed to let the discussion go, finding he didn't have many questions for the two like he thought he might. He watched Loki's fingers move on the controller with growing ease.

"You don't seem to have trouble adapting to Earth," he observed.

"Existing in the realm seems to be an easy feat with a native to guide you," Loki said. "It's the culture that proves to be- not problematic, but..." He paused the game and thought about what he was trying to say. "There is little simplicity in human lives- so many choices, so many things to do, to see; so many things to hear and taste. It's difficult to choose something to delve into- it could be very deep and I could be missing something better in something else."

Clint rolled his head to Steve. "It's the media. Movies, music, the news, TV shows, games. Stuff you have trouble with."

Clint's succinct explanation cleared the confusion for Steve. "Oh, the modern day culture. It's overwhelming, right?"

"Exhaustingly so."

"I felt the same way. I'm still working on it, but you're right- there's a lot to see. I watched the news a lot, but it's depressing."

"To say the very least," Loki huffed and threw the controller to Clint, who resumed his game. Loki sat up on the couch and finished his sandwich. "What have you done to- to catch up on the culture?"

"Honestly? Films. Movies. They're not usually reality conforming, but they teach sayings and behaviors, modern day stuff."

"Yes, but Agent Romanov informed me there are thousands of movies- where do you start?" Loki was interested in Steve's opinion, sitting forward on the cushion and asking honestly. Steve had the same reaction, starting to smile a little with the comfort of another outsider of pop culture.

"I ended up picking a genre and watching everything I could find of it. A lot of movies nowadays use music too. Not like, uh-" Steve rotated his hand in a wheel and stammered until he found his words- "not like orchestra stuff but the music bands and singers make. It brings you a little into the music bit too with that."

"See _that_ is what I'm truly interested in- the music. Movies are but visual books; private plays- music though... this is something exquisite I'm discovering. There seem to be so many shades of music just as there are movies and books."

Clint paused the game to look at Loki curiously, surprised to hear such passion coming from the god. Steve was serious about the discussion and pleased just as Loki was inquisitive and enamored.

"There's more in music than films! Millions of songs, thousands of singers, a hundred different styles. This is where I've taken to films for music samples. Here-" Steve shot out of his seat and strode through the room to another and came back out with a pen and paper. He sat on the floor beside the coffee table and started scribbling on the sheet.

"These are good ones for all of that. Tony's got a whole, uh, well he calls it a drive and I don't really know what that means, but he has a lot of films and all you have to do is ask JARVIS to play them. If he doesn't have one, JARVIS will get it for you."

Steve slid the paper over to Loki, a habit he'd gotten into from being around Tony so much that he didn't hand things to people often. Loki picked up the paper and read the list, a short one but enough to get Loki started on his learning.

"And to discover similar music to what I find?"

"That's what Pandora's for," Clint answered. He held up his phone and wiggled it. "When you figure out what you want, I'll help you with it."

"You have a lot to learn," Steve told the god. As the two locked eyes, finding in each other similar lost souls on the torrential waves of the world, Steve seemed to realize just whom he'd become so friendly with. He became nervous and suddenly stood up, telling the others that he should be going and he thanked Clint for talking with him. He nodded to Loki and said goodbye, marching to the elevator with a confused look on his face. He stopped short just before he entered the elevator and he turned to lock eyes with Loki again, who watched him go with calm wonder. He wanted to say something, but at the last second he decided against it and left.

Clint sniffed and lie back down on the couch, leaving the game paused and the controller tucked against his side.

"Well, that was weird," he muttered.

Loki hummed and agreed, looking at the list of movies in his hand but not reading the words.

"Did you just make friends with Captain America?"

"He seems just as confused about it as we are."

Clint chuckled and shook his head, sighing. "So, are we going on a movie binge?"

Loki and Clint watched movie after movie for a couple days, almost never leaving the couches except to go into the kitchen or the bathroom or back to bed. And after those days of films, Loki set on listening solely to the music from the ones he liked best, using a set of wireless headphones Steve brought him to have JARVIS play the music through.

Clint awoke one morning to find Loki lying on the glass floor against the giant windows, headphones on and gazing out to the bright blue skies above. He hobbled down the steps himself, no longer needing a crutch to get up and down, and he crouched weakly next to the god, listening to the whispers of music emanating from Loki's headphones. Loki rolled his head to look into Clint's eyes, concentrating on something in them and listening intently to the sounds. Clint was content to stare as well, finding lately that he liked Loki's behavior when he discovered new songs- he would stare out at nothing with a look of longing, feeling whatever the music made him feel, maybe dredging up memories that he looked back on with new meaning, or maybe creating fantasy worlds with the things he heard. He was intense, peaceful.

Through the passions of the woman's voice in his ears Loki bent his arm to touch the back of his fingers to Clint's knee, just brushing the archer's resting fingers. They never touched outside of their guest bedroom for fear that Tony or anyone was watching them. They wouldn't be able to explain it away. Just this once, though, Clint thought they could let this one go. He lifted a finger to catch one of Loki's. The god looked askance at their touching digits and then back up into Clint's eyes for a few moments before slowly rising up from the floor and wandering away towards the stairs. He tilted his head gently to signal the archer to follow him, which he did, all the way up the steps and into the bedroom. Clint closed the door behind him and startled when the god stepped up to him and cupped his cheek before leaning in for a long, slow kiss. He leaned into the lips and took to Loki's sudden attention greedily, framing his arms up against the god's sides with a hard grip. He surged up against him, taking his kisses from the taller man and making Loki's breath falter at the rub of Clint's growing arousal on his.

Loki pulled him towards the bed, breaking their kiss when his knees bumped the edge and he sat, looking up at the archer longingly. Clint panted and peeled his shirt off, standing between Loki's legs and closing his eyes when the god's fingers slid up his abs and over his chest in reverence. When those hands drifted back down to start unbuckling his pants, Clint ran his hand over Loki's hair, making him look up in question. He reached behind the god's neck and gripped the back of his shirt in one hand, pulling it up and leading Loki to finish taking it off for him before pushing him back onto the bed and crawling up over him. The blond yanked Loki's headphones off and tossed them onto the bed, causing the sound to come out louder without the barrier of Loki's ears. He pulled the god into another kiss and ground down against him, both groaning into each other's mouths and reaching down together to open Loki's pants, struggling against each other's hands. They settled for frantically undoing their own jeans and exposing themselves just before pressing their bodies together, not wanting to wait any more. Loki's hands slapped onto the ass of Clint's low-hanging jeans and pulled him down hard, jerking his hips up into the others and his breath coming in harsh stutters as their hard lengths rubbed together between their bellies. Clint moaned breathily as he steadied himself up on his arms, bracing himself to grind harder against the god, bringing the pale man to shut his eyes and bite his lip in an attempt to quiet himself. He rolled his hips up into Clint's in time with the music he could still hear, pushing faster as the tone grew passionate and pulsing. Clint's hips began to jerk harshly against Loki's as he felt his body tighten, knowing he would come soon. He noticed the god's movements with the music, discovering the reason for Loki's sudden need and he listened for a moment, recognizing the song. He leaned down and framed his arms around Loki's head, nearly brushing their noses, panting over each other's cheek. He ground down long and hard, drawing a gasp from the god.

"Look at me," he rasped and the god's eyes flew open, meeting Clint's just above him. They stared as they panted into each other, rutting harder and faster as they fought to reach the peak. The archer ground down hard over and over, bending his head down beside Loki's and letting his instincts run away with him, growling with Loki's pants as the god's hands slipped into the back of his jeans and dug his fingers into his cheeks to pull him harder. Clint felt his orgasm nearing, pulling Loki by the hair to kiss him and suck on his tongue until he felt that staggering heat in his insides and he came, jerking against the god and moaning, feeling the warm fluid spill from his length and slick against Loki's. Loki gasped at the wet sensations making the two slide together and he bucked up in his final ruts against the agent, huffing hard and raising his legs to grip Clint's hips between his thighs and squeeze as he came, scraping his nails up Clint's back and letting his head tilt back as he rode it out.

Their movements slowed from their halting spasms until they lie limply against each other, gasping for breath. Loki ran his hand up the welts he'd scratched on Clint's back and up to his head, touching their lips softly as Clint's heaving chest pushed against his. Clint felt the brushes of Loki's lips against his and he opened his eyes to see the god mouthing the ending words of the song he'd had on repeat all morning, realizing this song meant something strong for Loki, or was beginning to mean something. Clint rubbed his cheek against the god's as the song came to it's chanting ending, beating hard and loud as they came down from their high.

The song went back to the beginning again even as the two lay completely still against each other, unwilling to get up. Eventually Clint's leg began to shake and he gently rolled off to the side with a groan and Loki sighed.

"It was too soon- your leg."

Clint snorted and turned onto his back, pulling the headphones out from under him and setting them further away. He trailed his fingers lightly down his abdomen, feeling the damp skin around his softening length from their fluids.

"I didn't even feel it until we were done. Sounds like it was worth it."

Loki hummed in agreement and tucked himself back into his pants, frowning at the damp pull it had against his briefs. He sat up and looked at Clint, still exposed and looking content, eyes closed and a slight smile on his lips. He got up and found the orange bottle of pills, taking one to the archer. Clint took the pill from him, catching his long fingers and pulling him down onto the bed again to kiss him before swallowing the pill dry. Loki grasped Clint's limp member and tucked it away for him, telling him that he wasn't going to spend the day in bed, no matter how tempting it sounded. He picked up his shirt from the floor and buttoned it up, waiting for Clint to find his own before leaving the bedroom for the living room again. Loki combed his fingers through his hair as he descended the stairs, swinging the headphones loosely in his other hand. He sat on the couch and called for JARVIS to turn on the television, asking him to pick a movie for him while Clint went into the kitchen, hungry from their exercise. He made a sandwich and picked a fruit for Loki, dropping it in the god's lap for him to inspect. He never put any food into his mouth without first checking it over.

The sound of the elevator drew their attention and they looked towards it, watching the doors swoosh open and Tony step out with outrage on his face.

"What the hell was that?" He demanded, stomping over to the couches.

Clint was thrown by Tony's sudden appearance and then his vague question. "Uh... An apple?"

"I mean the trip into the bedroom and back; are you women now, you have a herding instinct to use the bathroom together or what?"

The blood rushed out of Clint's face and he knew then that Tony _had_ been watching, but the genius didn't need a camera in their bedroom to know something had just happened. They had gone into the bedroom without words and come back out with their shirts rumpled and Loki's hair disheveled.

Tony crossed his arms, bulging the muscles to make himself look bigger and he stood his ground. "Come on, throw me an explanation- something that says you weren't just getting some with the guy who brought lizard aliens to Earth. You-" he backed away from Loki as the god began to sit up- "you stay right where you are. I'm not hearing any singing, Tweety, what's your reason?"

"I- I don't have a reason," Clint stammered, heart pounding in his chest with fear.

Tony seemed to be at a loss with Clint's lack of explanation, having hoped that there would be a stupid but plausible reason for their time together outside of the cameras ever-watching eyes. He stood dumbfounded, trying to catch his breath. He must've run from wherever he was to the elevator to get to them.

"I know you hate him, Tony," Clint murmured, looking everywhere else but at the bearded man. "But- I don't."

That made Tony scoff and start laughing unnervingly. He rubbed his face with both hands and inhaled sharply. "Don't you think you should? He tried to conquer us- He killed innocent people, brainwashed you to work for him; he fucking threw me out of a window! He killed Phil!"

"Phil had it coming!" Clint shouted, drawing a light gasp from Loki behind him, making Stark stare in disbelief, astounded. "He knew what the risks were and he still went to Loki alone, with a prototype weapon that he wasn't even sure would work- Didn't even know what it would do, and in the end it didn't do anything! I saw the footage, Stark, I know what happened."

"Yeah, you're right, it was stupid of him to go alone," Tony agreed angrily. "But that doesn't mean it's okay to sleep with the asshole that murdered him!"

"That's _my_ decision to make- I've made my peace with Phil's death. A long time ago." The fight left Clint's body, tired from the stress of living in Stark's tower. "It was war, and there are always casualties in war. From my training, because of SHIELD, the saying 'better him than me' is the rationale. I know you're not a soldier, you want the whole team to come out on top when the battle's won, but that just can't happen."

He sighed and sat on the arm of the couch, feeling Loki's hand slip onto his shoulder to hold him gently. He reached his hand up to lay it over the god's and he let his head hang down, exhausted just from this conversation. Tony stared at their joined hands with waning anger, trying to make sense of the situation.

"How long have you been together?" he asked.

"'Together' as in 'since the punishment began' or 'since the feelings'?"

"The second one."

"A week, maybe a couple days more."

Tony grunted, tapping his foot on the glass floors before moving to throw himself down on the couch opposite of Loki's.

Loki squinted at the sharply bearded man. "You thought we were lovers long before this."

Tony didn't answer him, settling back on the cushions and staring down at his lap. Clint was relieved the shouting episode was over and he grabbed his sandwich off the table and finally took the first bite of it. He stayed seated on the arm and let Loki sit beside him on the sofa, trailing his fingers lightly down the archer's back. After a moment Tony jolted out of his seat and headed to the bar behind the two, deciding it was time to break out the hard stuff. He glanced at his watch and nodded, pouring himself a double and sipping it, looking out of the windows over the city. Most of the damage the Chitauri caused had been fixed, people didn't think about the buildings or their lives thrown into disarray so much as talk about the aliens. No UFOs or beams of light, just snarling lizard-beasts who could fly high-tech sleds.

When he glanced at Clint and Loki on the sofa, facing away from him, Tony thought they looked like kids sulking after a harsh dressing down from their teacher.

"Who else is in the loop on this?"

"No one," Loki said. "We would prefer to keep it between us."

"Yeah, I can see why," Tony chuckled. "Man-Out-of-Time is still getting used to the idea of generally accepted homosexuality- I think he'd bust a seam in the ass of his pants if he knew about you."

He came out from behind the bar with a two glasses and set one of them on the metal table as he passed by to his couch across from the pair. They looked at Tony questioningly and he nodded at Loki.

"There's your drink," he said. "What about SHIELD?"

Clint chewed his sandwich and shook his head. "I'm already grounded, there's not much worse they can do to me, but... If they knew: test after test, life in a padded cell. Maybe they'd kill us. Nat would- She'd understand maybe, but she wouldn't like it. She'd never be my friend again knowing I was happy to have him around rather than just taking it as a duty, we would be coworkers from then on, that's it. I think Fury already thinks I'm crazy. He gives me that loco eyeball all the time."

Tony took a swig of his dark drink and Loki had his grasped in his hand, sniffing the contents. "Well it certainly doesn't count in your favor that you're getting together when you know he's killed people. But, we've all killed people, haven't we. And Pep's still willing to be with me through it all. Does that make her crazy? Probably to other people, but to me she's my world. When I'm not thinking about genius stuff, of course. Or flying around. Which reminds me: you hear about your bike?"

Clint perked up and looked worried. "No, I'm sure it's all torn up."

"It is- it's in my lab. Wanna see it?"

"Yeah!" Clint got up with Tony and they headed towards the elevator. "Can Loki come?"

Tony looked over the god scrupulously and then relented, warning him not to touch anything. So they moved into Tony's labs, punching in a code to allow them access, and then Tony pointed at the mess of bent and twisted metal that was Clint's motorcycle on a table. Clint circled it with a look of sadness on his face, picking up a chunk of clear plastic that was shaped into the face of a man.

"I guess the Widow had every man in SHIELD combing the street for all the pieces," Tony said. "And, really?- Indian? I thought you'd be a Harley man."

"I was considering it, but then I came across Indian and there's native in my blood- I thought it was funny at the time." Clint set the face down and sighed at the wreckage. He loved that bike. It was the first thing he'd bought with his SHIELD paycheck, all shiny and new from the dealer. Only thing he did to change it was the paint job. Tony commented on the non-customized status of the bike with a hint of disappointment. But Clint wasn't a mechanic, he couldn't make those kinds of additions or customizations on his own, and he hadn't looked into having a shop do it either. The motorcycle performed well and the paint was the only thing that mattered to him at the time of purchase. He told Tony as much and the bearded man shook his head and offered to fix it, much to Clint's surprise. The bike was torn up and would require extensive repair, but Tony seemed to be chomping at the bit to get his hands on it.

"Can't say I can repair your paint job though," Tony admitted.

Loki, who had been wandering the perimeter of the lab, adhering to Tony's wish that he don't touch anything, turned around to face the other men. Tony saw the movement and tensed, but seeing as Loki merely watched them curiously, he relaxed a little.

Clint ran his fingers over the scarred paint of the bike and sighed. "Yeah... I'll take it somewhere, get a new design I guess. My helmet too-" he picked up the helmet on the table beside the remains of the bike and turned it around, checking the deep scuffs that whipped away the paint on one side. "Gotta get Loki a helmet for sure now."

Tony agreed and watched Loki walk behind his desk and peer into the digital screens, talking quietly to JARVIS.

"Could've ended up a lot worse," he guessed as he looked at the healing scabs over the god's face.

"Yeah... You sure got time to fix this? I can just take it to a shop, or get a new one."

Tony waved him away and went to open a large toolbox. "I've been bored for days- this'll give me something to do for one or two. Maybe more; depends."

"Thanks."

"No prob- Hey!"

Loki froze as he was pulling open a drawer and looked guilty.

"Do the words 'no touchy' mean nothing to you?"

Loki left the drawer open and sighed. "Your resident ghost was instructing me on where to find a 'tablet'."

"What- Why? JARVIS, you heard me say he couldn't touch anything!"

The AI sounded as though he was nodding his head in apology. "Forgive me, sir, but he merely asked for a medium for artistic purposes."

"Like a sketch for the design he'll use to paint my blood on the walls- I don't think so."

Loki huffed in exasperation and let his arms flap down to his sides. "Either you let me borrow this tablet or I request Steve Rogers to get it for me. He's grown to like me I think."

Clint whistled, impressed. "He's got you, Tony- Steve's an artist, he won't deprive someone else artistic release. He'll go behind your back to get the tablet if he has to."

The thought was actually a funny one, and Clint chuckled at it while Tony looked scandalized.

"JARVIS would probably help him too," Tony grumbled. "Fine, take it. There's a pen in there too. But know I'll be watching you! I can monitor everything you do on that thing and you look into anything suspicious- I'm taking it back."

Loki rolled his eyes and reached into the drawer for the tablet and pen, cradling it to his chest. "Yes, Mother."

Clint snickered as Loki went to his side, smiling at the fact he'd made Clint laugh. Tony just shook his head and mumbled as pulled a blow torch and mallet out of his giant toolbox.

"Fucking lovebirds."

The door to the lab opened and JARVIS greeted the newcomer.

"Hello, Dr. Banner."

Loki spun around to face the doctor, eyes wide in trepidation.

Bruce was looking down and tapping on the tablet in his hand as he walked into the labs. "Hey, JARVIS." He looked up to ask- "Is Tony in..."

His steps slowed to a stop as he spotted Loki, who slowly stepped behind Clint, reaching out to grasp the back of the blond's shirt. Clint was a little fearful himself, knowing that Loki had no magic to protect himself if Hulk showed up, and Tony and Clint amounted to a thumbtack-in-the-toe irritation for him. They'd be ripped apart if they tried to protect Loki from him.

Tony seemed to not feel the tension in the room, or maybe he just didn't care, as he set his blowtorch down and walked over to Bruce with a smile.

"When am I not in?" he said and Bruce looked away distractedly from the god, choosing to turn away with Tony when the genius wrapped an arm over his shoulders and led him to the desk. Tony waved a dismissing hand at the two in the corner.

"Don't mind them- they were just leaving. You remember me saying Clint got a new pet? That's him. He's being housebroken, so just ignore him."

Bruce glanced back at Loki and then promptly forgot about him as he started talking excitedly about some new theory he wanted to bounce off the inventor. Clint slowly grabbed Loki's hand and led him out of the labs silently and quickly. Bruce glanced up and made eye contact with the god and then noticed the pair's joined hands as they left, but he looked away and continued ranting with Tony.

In the elevator up to their guest floor, Loki kept Clint's hand in his with a painful grip, eyes still wide but his heart rate slowing to its normal pace as they moved to the relative safety of their rooms. Clint released a lungful of air and squeezed Loki's hand in return.

"Well that was tense."

"To say the very least," Loki whispered.

They entered their flat and Loki promptly threw himself onto the couch, calling for JARVIS to show him where the art application was on his newly acquired tablet. Clint smiled at him and went into the kitchen, grabbed a couple sodas and brought it to the god, leaving it on the metal coffee table for him. Loki maneuvered through the tablet finding the art application, 'design interface' JARVIS called it, and he started testing the brushes, the colors, discovering layers and opacities. Clint laid down on the opposite couch and turned on a movie, laughing when he found that one of the actors resembled Director Fury. Even Loki agreed. When it was over and Clint got up to take their empty cans into the kitchen, he leaned down behind the god and nuzzled the top of his head as he looked at the sketches on the tablet. Loki dropped the front of the tablet onto his chest and looked up at Clint with a frown on his face.

"What?" Clint asked. "I can't look?"

"No."

The archer humphed and leaned down further to kiss him, causing Loki to look nervous, but Clint shrugged.

"I figured since Tony knows now- he's the only one that can watch the cameras..."

Loki seemed to understand then and he set the tablet aside and got to his knees on the couch, wrapping his arms around Clint's neck and kissing him hard. Clint moaned and kissed him back.

"Nice to not have to hide from the cameras, huh?"

"Mmm."

Clint had his arms around Loki's waist and leaned their foreheads together, breathing softly.

"What's with you and this art stuff suddenly? I didn't know you did that."

"I learned magic and art and many other things as a child- trying my hardest to beat Thor in the things he detested and therefore failed in."

"And what are you drawing that I can't look at?"

Loki puffed air through his nose and closed his eyes, embarrassed. "It's one possible design... for your motorcycle. If you wanted it. You told Stark it would need new art and I thought-"

"You're gonna paint my bike?" Clint grinned, making Loki click his tongue and grind his forehead against the blond's in a shallow shake of his head.

"You only need say so if you wish another to make a design."

"No, no. Do it. I won't peek." He squeezed the god's middle and groaned. "You gonna paint our helmets then too?"

Loki hummed at the squeeze and let his hands wander down Clint's shoulders and chest. "If you'll allow it."

"Oh yeah," he murmured, brushing his fingers at small of Loki's back and touching their lips again. He leaned the god back, climbing over him as he laid him down and took Loki's tongue into his mouth. Loki ran his hands under the blond's shirt, bunching it up around his arms and lightly scraping his nails on his sides, drawing a moan from the archer that vibrated his tongue.

"Sirs," JARVIS' voice interrupted. "Mister Stark has requested you refrain from any sexual contact while in view of the cameras."

Clint growled in frustration as he broke away from the god and sat on his hips. "Tony, you fucking cock-blocker."

Loki seemed to pay the interruption no mind as he gripped Clint's hips and pulled him against the bulge growing in his pants, laying his head back and humming. Clint rolled his hips into his as well, with an exasperated sigh when Tony's voice came over the speakers like a master commanding his dog.

"Stop it!"

Clint growled and hauled Loki up by the hand, running them into the bedroom and out of Stark's sight.


	12. Touch Me I'm Going to Scream

It was another day or so before Clint felt like he wouldn't lose his balance at any moment and smack his face on the ground when he walked, and when those days were over he took Loki out to get his own helmet. Borrowing Tony's chauffeur for the trip.

While Loki worked on his design for the bike and their helmets, Clint brought the god's new helmet into Tony's workshop and sanded it and his own scratched helmet down to the base. Tony was working on Clint's motorcycle still, arguing with JARVIS that he totally could make something look bulky and slim at the same time. Clint exited the shop quickly when JARVIS finished their argument with a 'whatever you say, sir'.

In their guest flat, Clint came up to find Natasha on one of the sofas and Loki opposite her, holding his tablet close to his chest so she wouldn't see his work. He flopped onto the couch beside her and smiled at her.

"Did you really have the whole team pick up the pieces of my bike?"

The corner of her mouth barely rose in a smile, but for Clint it was enough and he put his hand on her thigh and squeezed. He thanked her and left his hand on her leg, and she made no move to push it off, putting her booted feet on the table.

"Charles is dead," she blurted.

Clint pursed his lips and sighed like he somehow knew that already.

"The hit-men trashed the place- knocked the tank onto the floor."

Clint took his hand back from her thigh and tightened his fists in his lap and cleared his throat. Loki glanced up at him from his tablet with concern.

"Is it dumb that I kinda want to cry over a fish?"

"He was your pet," Natasha consoled. "For years. Everyone cries when a pet dies."

"Good," Clint choked and cleared his throat wetly again, grinding a knuckle into one eye to stop them from watering any more. "Don't wanna be the only whack job tearing up about a fish." He sighed and scooted closer to the redhead, resting his head on her shoulder.

"Tell me about the hit-men. You caught 'em right? Get any intel from them?"

Natasha was quiet for a moment, trying to decide how to word her response. But she was talking to Clint, he'd want a straight answer from her, no fucking around.

"I haven't told Fury yet, but I think it was an inside job."

Clint's eyes that he didn't even know he'd closed suddenly snapped open. "What."

"They were contracted through someone who had been contracted who had been contracted- it's a long train. Someone's trying really hard not to be found."

"Suspicious- yes, but how did you just arrive at that conclusion?"

Natasha watched Loki's hand skitter around the tablet face as she explained. "Because it's what I would've done if I didn't want to implicate myself in the hit. Make the trail long and convoluted and none of the pawns would know who I was anyway. If you're a regular guy that just needs someone taken out, you don't take the time and trust that it takes to make a train of IOUs. You contact a killer, or take out the target yourself. Also, the mark was Loki, not you."

Loki looked up from the corner of his eyes and then looked back down at his drawing, continuing to work on it while he questioned her.

"I was on the news- many people were hurt by my actions. I think it stands to reason someone would want me dead. How does my being the target constitute a conspiracy in your ranks?"

"Because only SHIELD and the Avengers know you're here. And sweeps of the internet don't show any hints that someone has seen you and suspects that you actually are Loki."

Clint then planted his face in his hands and groaned. "And nobody except you, me, him, and Fury knows that if he dies, I die. They were going to just wipe Loki out and then look at each other stupid when I dropped dead right beside him."

"Well, at least that puts the Director out of the list of suspicious characters," Loki tried to console the agents.

Clint looked at Natasha pleadingly. "Do you _have_ a list of possibles?"

She shook her head. "Not yet. I'm going through all personnel and constructing motives- it'll take a while."

"He was a terrorist," Clint reminded her. "They don't need much more motive than that. Remember all the killings after 9/11? People were attacking U.S. fucking citizens because of their heritage."

"It's someone inside," she asserted with a nod.

"Do you believe there will be another attempt on my life?" Loki asked nonchalantly.

"There might be, so I want you back in the apartment to draw them out."

This caused Clint to burst with laughter. "You want to put our lives in danger so you can catch this guy? What- you think he's gonna just do it himself this time?"

"He might. He has to be frustrated that his plan went awry and his target is still alive, but now he doesn't know where. You need to get back into your regular life- be at home, make appearances at HQ, mingle with the other agents, so he thinks no one's on to him."

Natasha got up and made her commands. "When your bike is fixed- get back to the apartment."

She moved to get into the elevator and Clint twisted around on the couch and called out for her.

"Is my place going to be monitored now or...?" As he let the sentence trail off, Clint thought it sounded horribly suspicious, but he'd already said it, he'd have to make something up.

"No," the redhead said before he could open his mouth again. "You need to look like life is back to normal. Though you are acting weird- _should_ I put in surveillance?"

"I'd rather you refrain from spying on my abode," Loki declared loudly from his spot on the couch, not looking up from the tablet. "Unless you prefer I move into your home, Agent Romanov, so that you may keep an eye on me."

Natasha got into the elevator and turned back to the pair with a raised brow of amusement. "I'll leave the eyeing to your handler- seems like he can't get his fill."

The elevator doors slid shut just as the panic set in to the archer and he shouted,

"What's that supposed to mean?!"

But the doors closed and whisked her away, not letting him know if she heard him or not.

* * *

The motorcycle was fixed, and Tony called both Loki and Clint down to his lab to see it. While the bike originally looked like a regular motorcycle, the new body Tony had made gave it a futuristic look. Angular and modern, sleek and slim. Yet somehow bulky, just as Tony had debated with JARVIS how possible that could be. Clint circled the bike in awe, like a teenager getting his sweet-sixteen car, brand new with a giant bow on top.

"Holy shit! This is awesome!"

Tony stood by and smiled at his creation, reveling in Clint's praise. "Body's made of some similar stuff that my suit's made of. Little carbon fiber, damage resistant shit, you know. I took apart your helmet- there's some kevlar and speakers and microphones in it now. Seat's flame retardant-"

"You put speakers and mics in my helmet? Why?"

Tony grinned and swaggered to the bike, pointing at the dashboard and all it's new screens and gauges. "I may have put in some basic AI programming, equipped it with, you know, tracking capabilities, stealth modes, missiles... The list goes on- you're better off asking LUCIA to tell you what she's got inside her tight little body."

Clint was flabbergasted and he sputtered as he waved his hands around. "Fucking missiles! Dude, what kind of shit do you think I'm doing with this bike?"

"I don't know- spy stuff. Whatever is it you do when you're not playing Legolas or leash training your pet."

"And who's LUCIA?"

Tony rapped his knuckle on the large screen of the dash and smirked. Clint looked at him like he was crazy. Tony just grinned wider and depressed the tiny power button on the side, making the engine roar to life. The screens and gauges lit up bright and a diagnostic test flew by the screen in a flash, displaying a 'Green for Go' banner for a few seconds before a silvery voice sounded through a small speaker on the console.

"Good morning, sir."

Tony signaled to the entire machine with a sweeping motion of his hand. "This is LUCIA. LUCIA, say hello to Agent Barton- he's gonna take care of you from now on."

"Hello, Agent Barton," she greeted dutifully and Clint gaped at Tony.

"You put an AI in my bike."

"That's why you have communication capabilities in your helmet- so you can talk to her while you ride."

All of Clint's breath left him in a breeze of gratitude and amazement. He ran his fingers along the leather seat and gripped the handle, lost for words. LUCIA was kind enough to supply him with the right ones.

"Would you like to test drive the systems, Agent?"

Clint looked like he'd always dreamt of doing such a thing, driving the bike around with this voice inside it, talking to him and him talking to her like soulmates sharing intimate secrets. He scoffed and climbed onto the bike, swiping his hands down from the dashboard to the front of the seat lovingly. His plain, unpainted helmet was put in his lap and he looked up to see Loki smiling down at him. Clint smiled back.

"Gonna get on, babe?"

Loki gracefully declined, allowing the archer to explore his motorcycle's limits and capabilities without a worry for him. As Clint fit his helmet on and backed the bike into the private elevator of the labs, he flipped up his visor and shouted to Tony.

"Why does she have a Polish accent?"

"'Cause it's hot- what other reason do you need?"

The archer rolled his eyes and chuckled at the genius as the doors of the elevator slipped shut. When the elevator reached the ground floor of the tower, Clint sped out of the building, scaring the employees and making them run for cover as he laughed.

* * *

Clint returned to the tower, walking the bike into the building and elevator this time and receiving glares from the security guards, and he'd used a number of functions that LUCIA listed for him while on the drive. Not the missiles though. He wasn't sure when he'd need those. He came upon Loki still in the lab, sitting behind Tony's desk and working with the digital screens, talking quietly to JARVIS. He held his own sanded down helmet in his lap and watched a holographic copy of it spin a full circle, showcasing one of Loki's designs. Green and gold in swirls and knots something similar to his armor, yet conjoining in the back to form the face of a wolf. He let it float as Clint parked the motorcycle and went to it, turning to smile at the god.

"This yours?"

"It is," Loki confirmed. "JARVIS will somehow apply my designs to the helmets and therefore cut out countless hours of work to paint them myself."

Clint was impressed. "It's looks good."

"Thank you." Loki looked genuinely surprised by the praise, slightly embarrassed too, but he shook it off quickly. "Would you like to see yours?"

"Yeah, of course; bring it up."

"JARVIS, show Clint the painting for his helmet."

JARVIS obeyed without question, something Tony, who stood in the corner at workstation with tools in hand, was irritated by, though he couldn't say exactly why. The helmet shape stayed the same and a new color palette and design replaced Loki's, based in a simple dim purple, eagle feathers fanning out from the corners of the visor and strings of beads flowing back in the wind.

Loki stood slowly and moved out from behind the desk, studying Clint's face for any signs of displeasure as he roved around the hologram of the helmet. He didn't find anything but a small smile on the archer's lips.

"You are a simple man in your ornaments and accoutrements," Loki explained as he inched closer to the blond. "As such, I hoped to keep the design for your helmet just as simple, and lend a nod to your 'native' blood. Does this please you?"

"Yeah," Clint said breathily. "Hell yeah, it's awesome. What about the bike?"

Loki turned away, going back to the desk and seating himself in the chair, crossing his legs. "For that you will have to wait."

The hologram collapsed on itself and the room brightened to its normal level, pulling Clint out of his star-struck gaze. He leveled Loki with a frown and scuttled over to the desk.

"Come on," he whined. "You showed me the helmet."

"Patience is a virtue, Clint Barton. You've waited this long, you can wait a while longer."

The archer hopped up to sit on the desk and he clicked his tongue. "Come on, you tease!"

Loki's brow arched and a smirk began to twist his lips. He took a deep breath and uncrossed his legs, setting them apart largely as he tilted his head back to look down his nose at the archer.

"Tease?" the god rumbled and then chuckled low in his throat. "Well, perhaps I can be persuaded... You'll have to make it worth my while."

A loud banging of metal hitting the floor startled the two in their seats and they cowered a little when Tony came barreling up to them.

"None of that shit! You wanna get it on- you get a room. Only I get to have sex in here!" He brandished a stick of steel at them and motioned for them to get out.

* * *

Loki moaned as Clint pressed against him, pushing their skin together and squeezing their arousals between them. He twisted his fingers in the pillowcases and tensed his body to move hard against the archer, tilting his head back and biting his lip as Clint nibbled at his neck. Down again, Clint licked a stripe along the god's chest, mouthing along his pec and shifting further to nip at the lines of his ribs, drawing breathy sighs and spasming hips from the pale thing under him. He dragged his lips down Loki's soft belly and puffed his warm breath over him, sliding his hands down his sides and gently squeezing the hips he found at the bottom. Further down Clint wiggled and felt Loki's length touch against his cheek, moving to grip the base and dart his tongue out for a quick lick. Loki gasped and his whole body tensed as he grabbed the archer's shoulder.

"Stop," he rasped in a broken voice.

Clint stopped his licks immediately and looked up the god's body questioningly.

"Why?" he whispered.

Loki closed his eyes and inhaled sharply to steel himself, but he never let his grip on the shoulder waver. "I don't like it."

"You don't like... the way I'm doing it or... blowjobs in general...?"

"The second one," Loki said, shifting uncomfortably. "Please come back up here."

Clint pulled himself up the god's body again with a look of concern, leveling himself on his hands to look down at Loki's face. Loki opened his eyes and looked sadly at the archer, reaching up to run his hands along the tanned sides absently.

"I'm sorry- I ruined the mood." Loki tried hard not to look into Clint's eyes, focusing instead on the hickey on the top of his shoulder.

"It's okay," Clint soothed quietly. "Tell me what's wrong."

Loki stammered as he tried to collect his thoughts, sighing hard and turning his head away to stare out the windows into the night. Clint took his cue to lie down, staying just off of being directly on top of the other, touching his lips to the shoulder there. He was still hard, as was Loki, but it was wavering faintly in their moment of discomfort.

"I just- I don't like it." Loki's cheeks colored in embarrassment and he kept his gaze steady on the lit windows of the nearest building. "I prefer feeling a body against mine when I seek pleasure. But to- to- to-" Loki sighed hard- "be _fellated_ is using and controlling to take ones pleasure. It's something akin to using my own hand and... it's shameful."

"You think whacking off is shameful?"

Loki clicked his tongue, "I knew you wouldn't understand."

"No, I understand," Clint assured. "Sounds like someone caught you when you were a kid and told you it was dirty and wrong, maybe you got punished for it, and now you can't enjoy the simple pleasure of the one-handed man-dance because of this dickhead."

Loki grunted at Clint's assessment and the archer kissed his shoulder.

"It's not bad."

"I know. I just can't make myself, it doesn't happen."

"That's okay. If you don't want it, you don't want it- I won't force you."

Loki whipped his head to the side to look at Clint with faint panic in his eyes.

"I don't want you to think I don't desire you-"

"Babe," Clint chuckled breathily and rubbed the god's cheek reassuringly, "it's okay. Everybody's got something they don't dig. It ain't the end of the world."

Loki's eyes flickered over the archer's face in search of his honesty and of course he found it, releasing a heavy sigh in relief. Clint smiled at him gently.

"Wanna pick up where we left off or do you wanna sleep now?"

"I think-" Loki sighed again and closed his eyes- "sleep. I'm displeased with myself and I'd rather not continue tonight." He turned onto his side to face the archer fully. Clint snuggled into the god's arms, resting his forehead on the pale chest and weaving their legs together. Loki wrapped his arms around the archer and sighed one last time before closing his eyes and slowly falling asleep. Clint stayed awake for a while longer, considering how easily he had fallen into this relationship with the god- sleeping together, kissing, sharing secrets of childhood and their fears and quirks. Since their confessing of attraction to each other, Clint felt like a weight had been lifted from him and he could just be with Loki. For all the hatred he'd thought he harbored against him after Loki was sent away to Asgard, he realized it wasn't just hatred. Maybe something like... longing. Envious longing. That drug he had and then suddenly couldn't have anymore. Freedom to say and do exactly what he wanted, no matter how bad it might seem to the rest of the world. Loki was like that. He cared about how people saw him to a certain extent, but past that- it was his life and he was going to live it as he saw fit.

His relationship with Loki allowed him to be close to that drug again, maybe even get a taste of it when they were alone together, but he still had to shape up and fill out to be in regular society. He couldn't show SHIELD what he wanted, or tell them what he thought and it made Clint feel like an empty shell.

As he rubbed his forehead against Loki's chest, the god's sinewy arms wrapped around him tighter and he breathed deep.

"Please sleep," Loki implored groggily. "I can hear the gears turning in your head."

Clint chuckled and cleared his mind, settling down to rest.

* * *

Over the next couple days their plain helmets were transformed by color and design with JARVIS' know-how, and the motorcycle was finally colored and shown off as well. Clint froze in place right at the entrance to the workshop when he saw it. Painted the same dim purple to match his helmet, there was the silhouette of a hawk under the handlebars, it's black shadow cut out for intricate designs of knots, flying atop a breeze of yellow-green and red-brown leaves. Near the back, where Loki would sit, a black wolf with the same twirling ropes in its silhouette to show the purple tint behind it, running along a field of grass, chasing the tail-end trail of leaves in the hawks wake.

The archer deflated when Loki's hand reached to squeeze his shoulder and he laughed in disbelief.

"You made this?"

"Mm-hm. Still simple in design for you, but I took the liberty of..." Loki hesitated and took a step forward so he wouldn't have to meet Clint's eye. "I took the liberty of including myself in the design alongside you. But perhaps that is too forward of me- assuming too much."

Clint crossed his arms, looking at the back of Loki's head.

"What do you mean? I like it."

Loki sighed, "We'll have to discuss it at a later time."

The archer squinted at the god in suspicion, but he let it go and came up behind the taller man, rubbing his hand up his back.

"I like it. I really do- it's awesome." The two smiled at the painted machine until Clint patted him on the back with finality. "Ready to go home?"


	13. Over the Love (of You)

The apartment was trashed, just as Natasha said it was. Apparently the grunts at SHIELD didn't feel it necessary to straighten anything in the rooms in the past few weeks, not even the couch, which was pushed onto its front. The rug was kicked up, zodiac plate of jellybeans tossed all over the room. Pages ripped out of Loki's borrowed books and thrown everywhere. It looked like the hit men had been peeved that their mark hadn't shown up and just to show _him_ up, trashed the place instead. Clint scoffed inwardly about it- amateurs. He was disheartened by his belongings being thrown about and torn up but it wasn't until he went into the kitchen that he became truly sad. A small cube sat on the countertop, a ring presenter box, but instead of a ring sitting on the velvet cushioning lay Charles, dry and withered. A note next to box read 'I'm sorry, I didn't know what you'd want to do with him. -N'

Loki peeked over Clint's shoulder, seeing the dead fish and grimacing as he snatched up the note and read it, tossing it away with a scoff. Clint stared down at the carcass and shrugged his shoulders.

"What do I do with him? There's nowhere to bury him unless I take him to a park."

Loki pursed his lips in thought for a moment before telling Clint to wait there and start setting the apartment to rights and he'd be back. He headed out the front door before the archer could ask him where he was going. So he turned the couch back onto its bottom, picked up the library books torn pages and stacked them on the end table. He set his prayer rug right and collected his DVDs. In the bedroom, he made the bed, folded up his tossed around clothes, closed the drawers and started to hang up his jackets and shirts in the closet again.

He was pulling out the vacuum when he heard the front door open and shut, and he curiously came out to the kitchen. The god stood at the counter next to Charles and turned to see Clint sneaking up behind him. He held a square ceramic pot, small enough to fit in his hand, painted in blue and white with a shiny glaze over it, with a small succulent plant fanning out over its soil-filled insides. Loki set it down guiltily on the counter and stepped aside, allowing Clint to close in on it.

"I went to your lady-friend in the next building," the god said softly. "I explained to her your home had been ransacked and your fish murdered and we have no way to bury it. She gave me this. She looked at me quite strangely though."

Clint found a fork and used the prongs to gently lift the plant and a mound of dirt out of the pot, and he picked up the withered fish by the tail and tucked it into the hole of earth before fitting the plant over it again. He dunked the small potted plant under the faucet for a drink of water and then set it on the windowsill where the sun streamed in. Both he and Loki stared at it in silence as though the water and plant would bring life back to the fish and it would rise out of it. It didn't happen, of course.

"You told her my name," Loki said quietly.

"I wasn't trying to, it just came out. She's not gonna suspect that you're the Loki."

"I am Loki."

"Don't worry about it."

They left the grave of a plant on the sill and moved into the living room, where Loki sighed regretfully as he picked up the stack of papers and sifted through them, sorting them out on the floor for the books they belonged to. Clint set about vacuuming up the jellybeans scattered everywhere. Loki tucked the pages into the covers of their rightful books and looked down at them sadly. When Clint finished cleaning up he flopped onto the couch next to the god.

"I'm sorry about your pet," Loki muttered.

"Wasn't your fault." Clint huffed and settled into the cushions. "He was just a fish. I shouldn't be so beat up about it. Thanks for burying him with me, though."

"It was the least I could do- you named it, you cared about it, kept it fed. Stands to reason you would mourn its death."

Clint had nothing to say to that, he stared unseeing at the blank television. Loki stared down at the torn tomes of history.

"What did you mean about my bike?" Clint murmured as he stared away into nothing. "You said you were assuming too much... including yourself in the paint job."

It took a moment before Loki answered, fidgeting and adjusting his position on the couch over and over before Clint calmed him.

"Loki?"

"I wondered too late if it was wishful thinking to include myself so permanently in the design of your bike- the wolf."

"Yeah, I know you're the wolf there. What's so wrong about it?"

Loki tapped his fingers nervously on his leg. "I don't want to fool myself into thinking I'm a permanent fixture in your life- I'm merely a prisoner who happens to share intimacies with my guard, making my sentence more bearable for the both of us. But you're still free to seek relationships with others and I do not count in with that possibility. Once I'm rehabilitated, I'll be brought back to Asgard."

Clint was brought out of his daze by Loki's rambles though he still looked into the middle distance as he digested the information. Loki was counting himself as a fuck being had to keep his jailor happy because he didn't want to believe there could be anything more. There _was_ more, but the more Loki didn't want to hope for had yet to enter Clint's mind until now. They had begun this relationship almost on a whim, and it certainly was keeping the handler pleased, but he hadn't thought about anything past what was happening right now. He knew he hated thinking about the future, it was too loose, too unpredictable. The best laid plans could be dashed to pieces the next day and you'd be in a panic to set it on the right track again. He preferred to fly by the seat of his pants. But Loki was thinking about the future for him, because what would become of them if Loki did follow his father's commands and learn his lessons? Not even Thor stayed on Earth for Jane. And they had exchanged the 'L' word. The thought made Clint shiver and he looked sidelong at Loki. If he thought about it, it wasn't a question of 'could he say it'- it was a question of 'would he mean it'.

And if he meant it; if he said it... Would Loki say it too?

Heart pounding as Clint thought of these things, he cleared his throat and tried to keep the calm in his voice. "I think unless you're gonna start doing what Odin sent you here for... you're gonna be stuck with me for a long time."

Loki swallowed hard and absently squeezed a fist to stretch his knuckles. "I already told you I wasn't going to play his game."

"Then you've got your answer, don't you?"

Loki looked at the archer with open eyes, meeting Clint's eye without expression, until he rose from the couch and started away for the door.

"I'm going for a walk," he muttered and Clint let him go without a word.

The archer went up to the roof and was confused to find six or seven people up there already, milling around with drinks in hand or sitting in lawn chairs. When he looked around to the neighboring apartment buildings he noticed their roofs were filled with tenants as well. A couple kids chased each other on one roof with sparklers in hand, and a bottle-rocket zoomed out into the open sky and popped open its sparks and colors. He wanted to smack himself- it was the Fourth of July. He smiled at the frolicking people and scuttled to his rabbit hides that were in the corner, still there next to the bucket, tanned by the sun from his weeks of absence. He picked them all up, and fondly ruffled the fur between his fingers. He breathed in the coming-night air, looking up when a few sparrows jetted by with a tart chirp in their travels, dodging the spiraling bottle-rockets shooting into their path. The setting sun painted the clouds hot-pink and orange under the darkening blue sky and he spotted one star, the North Star, shining. He smiled serenely and turned away, jotting back into the apartment to toss his furs on the counter and grab a blanket and a couple cokes from the fridge before heading back up, intending to watch the city's fireworks show with his fellow tenants.

He laid out on the blanket near his neighbors and popped open a coke and took a sip or two. He watched the skies go from blue to black, the clouds lose their rose-tints and dissipate into nothing. He saw the stars fade in, and heard the chirping birds fade out. He lie back on the blanket with a sweating coke can at his side, taking sips every once in a while when he remembered it was there. People were lighting off their own fireworks from their rooftops in anticipation for the big show they knew would start soon. Loki appeared then, sitting on his knees on the edge of the blanket and looking up at the flashing colors.

"What is all this?"

"Fourth of July. I totally forgot it was so close."

Loki nodded his head in recognition and looked to Clint for confirmation. "The day America celebrates its independence from England's rule."

"Right! So those books did you some good after all."

"And all this?" Loki waved his fingers at the explosions of flashing lights starting off in the black sky.

"It's how we celebrate. They're called fireworks: gunpowder and metal and stuff like that- the Chinese came up with them."

"Fascinating..." The god stared up in awe at the show and Clint gazed up at him from his spot on the blanket, smirking fondly at him.

"Loki," he murmured, pulling the god's gaze down to him. "Lay down with me."

Loki seemed stunned by the archer's request but he shuffled around to lie beside him anyway, settling in with a small gap between them. He laced his fingers together over his belly and studied every sparkle of firework that blew up above them. He sniffed the air at that smokey burning scent and hummed. Clint set the other unopened coke between them and took a sip of his own. The tenants of the building all sat down in their chairs or blankets or just the floor and they watched, wrapped up in their quiet conversations.

Clint sighed gently through his nose and sneaked his hand through the space between him and Loki to scratch at his hip.

"Are you scared I'm gonna find someone else?" he whispered.

It was Loki's turn to sigh and he fidgeted his fingers atop his stomach. "The thought has crossed my mind..."

Clint chuckled silently and shook his head at the god with a smile. "There's no one else like you. Maybe we'll grow apart later on, find other people or interests. You don't know what can happen. But I know I'm happy right here, right now. I like you with me.

Loki turned to the archer with an air of thoughtful distrust. "But it could change, you say. You could find companionship in another at any time," he said almost unhappily.

Clint chuckled even though he knew he probably shouldn't. "If you don't like that, then you better make sure it doesn't happen."

Loki grunted and continued to stare up with Clint, eyes following the bursts of light and color and burning. They lie on the rooftop all night, sipping at their fizzy drinks even after the show had ended. The tenants had vacated slowly, some going out to party on another roof, in another house, and people around the city continued their own private displays throughout the night. Clint and Loki found no reason to leave the warm night air. They watched the brightest of stars peek through the smog of firework smoke and Clint named them for the god after having watched the stars for years. They ended up dozing on the blanket in the early morning hours, waking for a few moments when the shriek of a bottle-rocket sounded nearby, and then they would fall asleep again.

Clint awoke and looked up lazily at the brightening morning sky, the deep blue fading gently into pale pinks and whites. The most silent time of the morning when even the birds take this moment to gape in awe at the event of a new day. A hand slid up from his side and onto his chest and he didn't look to know Loki was leaning close, gently hooking his foot around the blond's ankle and dragging himself onto the stout body.

Clint closed his eyes just before Loki could enter his vision, stealing the serenity of the dawning skies into him and he skimmed his hands up the gods body to his face and blindly pulled him into a kiss. He weaved his fingers into Loki's hair and pulled him closer as the god braced himself on the chest beneath him, moving his lips against Clint's with his eyes closed.

They breathed faster as they continued to kiss, hands moving to hold onto the thin body, fingers digging into the muscles of his back and grinding up against him. Loki broke away, eyes looking down at Clint softly and lightly panting. He looked something between frightened and awed. Something like realization.

"Clint..." Loki's eyes flickered back and forth between Clint's. "I-"

Clint covered the god's mouth with his fingers.

"Don't say it," he whispered and slid his hand to hold the god's cheek, seeing the pastel skies outlining his black hair. He pulled Loki back down to him, squeezing his own eyes shut and rubbing their noses.

"I know," he said and connected their lips again with a frantic need.

The god crawled onto his knees and hovered over Clint as he fumbled with the button of the smaller man's jeans, cupping his other hand over the bulge there and squeezing gently until he'd opened them. Clint reached down to free Loki of his jeans also, but the god caught his hands and pinned them down at his sides, giving the archer a stern look when he grunted about it.

"What are you doing?" he rasped.

Loki nibbled his jaw before slipping down to his neck and biting down gently.

"Does it matter?"

He jerked the jeans down around his hips, clearing a spot for Clint's length to pop out and smack against his belly. As he slowly shimmied down the tanned body, pushing his shirt up and laying kisses against the revealed skin, Loki snaked his fingers up the underside of Clint's waiting arousal, rubbing hard with his palm and ghosting touches with his fingertips. He scraped his teeth down the archer's belly until he reached the twitching hardness awaiting him and he dropped his jaw wide and licked a wet stripe from base to tip with his whole tongue. Clint's entire body jerked and he cursed as he gripped Loki's arm, squeezing his eyes shut and groaning while the god sucked the tip of his length into his mouth, nose rubbing into his belly.

Clint popped his eyes open to stare at the brightening sky, trying to hold himself back because he felt like he'd finish too soon if he closed his eyes and imagined. The sun-whitened sky was turning blue finally, and he tried to concentrate on the colors as Loki wrapped his fingers around his base and lifted the hardened flesh up to close his mouth around it. Clint's hips pushed up of their own accord, trying to put more of himself into the god's mouth and Loki let him, undulating his tongue along the underside and drawing a stuttering sigh from the archer. Gently, Loki found Clint's hand and pulled it to his head, touching his fingers to his dark hair and letting him weave his fingers into it, rubbing his scalp. His other hand Clint used to brace on the god's shoulder, trying to keep himself from bucking into Loki's mouth and choking him, but the god allowed the slow roll of his hips in and out of the wetness, letting the archer set the pace.

Another few moments in the suction of the god's mouth, feeling himself bump the back of his throat and Clint cursed again, knowing he was close. He cupped his hands at the front of Loki's jaw and lifted him off his length gently, and he grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him back over top of him when the god gave him a look of confusion. He silenced Loki's starts of protest with a kiss and set to ripping open the god's pants and pushing them down around his hips, pulling the equally hard arousal he found there out and against his own, grinding hard between them. They kissed messily with tongues and teeth, pulling and pushing their bodies together, panting in between it all. Loki broke the kiss to bite at the blond's neck, scratching his nails down the tanned sides. Clint wet one of his fingers in his mouth while the god was busy elsewhere and he trailed his hand down Loki's back and over his half-exposed butt, wiggling into the back of his jeans and tracing his wet finger against Loki's opening. When the god's breath stuttered at the contact, Clint dipped the tip of his finger inside and then pulled it back it back out and did it over again. Loki bucked hard against the archer and gasped at the intrusion, digging his nails into Clint's sides as he plunged his finger whole into him, working it slowly in and out. His mouth hung open over Clint's neck and he moaned breathily, eyes closed gently before dropping his forehead onto the archer's collar as he ground forward against Clint's length and belly and rubbed back into Clint's hand behind him.

"What you do to me..." Loki gasped against his chest. "How can you do this to me?"

Clint's tightened his hold on Loki's butt while he worked inside him and he puffed through Loki's hair a light chuckle.

"I want you to come so hard you can't see," he grunted.

Loki's hips jerked at Clint's words and he gasped again and buried his reddened face into Clint's chest.

"Harder, then," he groaned and the archer hummed pleasantly and carried out the god's command, adding a second finger into him and thrusting them hard enough to shove Loki up against him.

Loki huffed his breath over Clint's chin as he threaded his fingers through the short blond hair, pushing and pulling himself against the archer. The fingers pushing inside him made the god want to raise his hips, get onto his knees and push back onto them, but he wouldn't be flush against Clint's skin and the conflicting needs caused Loki to whine and then silence his embarrassment in Clint's mouth.

While he certainly enjoyed their kisses, the archer would have none of the silence that Loki wanted, and he jerked his fingers shallowly and quickly inside the god, knowing exactly when he began to touch against that spot inside him that made his jaw go slack. The god stopped all his movement and let Clint thrust into him, breath coming in pants and his insides tightening around the fingers. When Loki suddenly moved again, jerking his hips hard against Clint's and snaking his hand in between their bellies to grasp their lengths together with a firm squeeze, the god hissed behind his teeth and dropped his head to the ground beside Clint's. The blond dug his nails into Loki's cheek and began to lose his rhythm of thrusts as his fingers were held tight inside the god. He released his grip and wrapped his arm around Loki's middle, using the leverage to grind himself longer and harder against the pale one above him as he groaned and when he heard the god openly moan in his ear and felt the first drips of warm liquid spread between them, Clint cursed and came in turn, squeezing his eyes shut and riding his orgasm out with the god jerking against him, puffing his breathy moans in his ear.

When their stuttering hips calmed and the grip of Loki's opening around Clint's fingers loosened, they lie on the roof catching their breath, feeling the come squish between them and drip down Clint's sides. The blond left his fingers inside the god but he ran his other hand under Loki's shirt and rubbed his back as he sighed happily.

"Fuck," he said and Loki chuckled quietly against his neck. "Think we could keep this morning sex a regular thing?"

Loki hummed and raised himself onto his hands. "If it pleases you."

"Hell yeah." He leaned up to kiss the god. "You please me."

Loki snorted and rolled his eyes even as he returned the archer's kiss. "Sappy sentimental sod."

"Enjoy it while it lasts- I don't say shit like that often," Clint laughed. He finally pulled out his fingers, making Loki grimace a little at the drag, and he rubbed them against the blanket. "Guess we should shower. Gotta wash our clothes too."

Loki groaned and sat up, stuffing his softened length into his pants but neglecting to close them up, and then he tucked Clint away into his jeans as well, earning a soft look from the archer.

"I wasn't sure if you were really gonna do it- give me head."

"I am completely capable of giving it; I just don't like receiving it." Loki steadily avoided Clint's eye as he buttoned up their pants. Clint hummed thoughtfully at the god's admittance as he continued to lie on the blanket. Loki traced his fingers down Clint's bent leg and absently stared at his fingers as they moved.

"I enjoyed doing it for you," he murmured and hoped he wasn't blushing. "You were gentle; I don't like to be choked."

Clint smiled and sat up, touching their noses. "Well I didn't want to choke you. Not that I could've- I ain't that big," he chuckled and Loki tried not to smile. "Come on, let's clean up." He got up and took Loki by the hand, grabbing the blanket, and they abandoned the rooftop for a hot shower in the apartment.

The water splashed on the wall tiles and steamed the tiny bathroom into haze as the archer and god stepped into the stall and wet themselves down. Loki hogged the shower's spray to wet his hair while Clint wet the soap with the water down the god's back and lathered up. As Loki started shampooing his hair he let Clint by to rinse off and wet his own hair. Clint looked up at the pale one with a gentle smirk and leaned up on his toes to kiss him, coming back down flat on his feet with a furrowed brow.

"S'weird," he commented and Loki chuckled.

"I never kiss you standing up."

"Yeah. You're so tall."

"Imagine how Agent Romanov feels," the god concluded, "without her heeled boots she's the smallest of all your Avengers."

Clint rubbed the shampoo out of his hair with the help of the shower. "Yeah, but she can kick all of our asses in a fight. Maybe not Thor, but imagine how he'd react if she came at him with her leg-chokehold."

Loki barked in laughter as he soaped up his chest. "He wouldn't be able to decide whether to bite her or stick his tongue into her! It would probably be a little of both."

"He'd get choked to death."

"And he would love every moment of it."

When their shower was finished, they toweled off and Loki combed his hair while Clint merely rubbed his towel over his and called it good. He tossed the towel over the top of the shower stall door and left the bathroom, walking naked to his bedroom. From his discarded jeans on the floor he could hear his phone ringing and he sifted through the pile of his and Loki's clothes to find it. The screen told him it was Natasha calling. He took the call.

"Hellooooo," he drawled.

"Hello to you- must be a nice morning. You never wake up this early and sound that happy."

Clint sat on the edge of the bed and laid back. "Yeah, you'd be surprised what an early-morning wank will do to you."

"Oh yeah, I forgot: you're a morning sex kind of guy." She sounded irritated yet somehow playful.

Loki entered the room and started opening the drawers of the dresser, picking out his clothes for the day. Clint watched his ass and legs move from the corner of his eyes.

"You coming in today?"

The archer sighed and scratched at his hip. "I guess so... I could hit up the range. Show off a little."

"You could teach Loki how to shoot."

Loki turned to look incredulously at Clint, having heard the suggestion, and Clint had the same expression on his face.

"Teach him to shoot? What's with you lately? You wanted me to spar with him, you wanted him to lift weights with us. Now you want me to teach him how to shoot?"

"If you're going to hang out with him, you might as well-"

"We are not 'hanging out', Nat." Clint protested. "He's my- my prisoner!"

Loki stretched into a shirt and raised an amused eyebrow at the archer.

"Is he?" she asked flatly.

Clint stopped and stared at the ceiling. She was probing for a tell. He opened his mouth, but what he was going to say, he had no idea. Natasha beat him to it anyway.

"You're afraid to tell me."

He chuckled nervously. "Tell you what?"

He heard her sigh in irritation and she was quiet. Loki leaned on the bed and Clint covered the speaker with the pad of his finger.

"She knows," he muttered to the god, whose eyebrows jumped up and then came back down to their usual position. "She knows, but she wants me to say it."

"Then say it," Loki admonished.

"What? No! I-" he took his finger off the speaker and told Natasha to wait, tapping the mute button and looking at the god with panic. "No, we can't tell her!"

Loki clicked his tongue. "If she already knows, what's the harm in admitting it?"

"She'll never fucking forgive me, okay? She thought what you did to me was horrible- she'd never look at me the same if she knew I was fucking you and enjoying it."

The god rolled his eyes and stepped away, pulling socks onto his feet. "I have not seen her act any different towards you since all this began. And where is your trust in her? You said you love her, trust her with your life, have this 'understanding' between you."

"Goddamn it, I do love her, but-"

"Clint Barton, your argument is invalid; she's asking you to tell her. As your best friend even! If you do not- I will."

Clint gaped at him and pulled his phone to his chest protectively. He looked down at it as if it were the body of a dying bird he'd tried to save, sad and reluctant to learn a hard lesson. Loki climbed onto the bed and took the archer's face in hand, pecking a chaste kiss on his lips as he pulled Clint's hand and phone up to their level.

"Tell her."

Clint sighed hard as Loki pulled away to finish getting dressed, and he tapped the mute button again and put the phone to his ear.

"Still there?" he asked.

"Mm."

He flopped back onto the sheets and sighed again. "I haven't told you because I don't want you to hate me. I know we've been through a lot of shit together and I trust you- but I... I'm just not sure you'll understand why I'm doing this and you'll think I'm crazy and then SHIELD is gonna come down on my head and I'll be shipped off to the funny farm-"

"Barton," Loki warned at the rambling.

Clint looked at the ceiling and it's faces that formed in the crackles. "I'm banging Loki."

He thought he could hear her eyes roll playfully and she snorted.

"Took you long enough. Bring your boyfriend to the range- teach him to shoot."

Clint sighed in relief. "I love you."

"You're an idiot."

And she hung up with that.


	14. Ruiner

On the ground floor of SHIELD headquarters, Clint led Loki through the throngs of agents and suits, rolling his eyes at how they all parted to make way for them. Loki made it easier for Clint this time, dressing in human clothes rather than his leathers. But he was still Loki, and everyone was cautious and curious. They watched the pair everywhere they went.

The back of the ground floor, behind the grand staircase that led to the next, was an enclosed set of rooms, painted black on the walls and small warning signs on the doors that read 'LIVE-FIRE RANGE'. Clint stopped at the door and turned to the god.

"It's gonna be loud as hell in there- shots going off and shit. Don't yell if you need to say something, just tap me and talk in my ear. Let's go."

He opened the door, letting out a cacophony of gunshots for a moment while they slipped inside. Clint started down the aisle after he shut the door behind Loki, bracing himself against the blasting noises. They passed the stalls of range shooters, all concentrating on their aim and form. On occasion all the shots would stop as the weapons were reloaded and all that could be heard through the ringing of their ears was the last clink of a bullet casing on the concrete floor. And then the shots would begin again. They came to a door at the end of the long aisle and entered, finding themselves in a room on the outside of a giant cage. The counter before them had two men behind it, one looking down over a newspaper and another with a clipboard in hand, ticking off items as he inspected the contents of the cage. Guns. Everywhere there were different sizes and shapes of handguns, rifles, shotguns, the walls of the cage were lined with them, and in stacks and crates were boxes of ammunition. With the sudden rise of noise and then it's decline with the closing of the door, the man at the counter looked up from his paper, eyes going wide at the sight of Loki. He looked at Clint after a moment and tried to put himself together. Clint stepped up to the counter and rested his arms on it.

"I need a .223 and a .22 pistol."

The man in his too-big camouflage shirt stared at the god and Clint looked at him with a straight face.

"Don't look at him; look at me."

The man became flustered and he pointedly looked away from the god, meeting Clint's eye.

"Loki," the archer said calmly, not looking away from the man behind the counter. "Grab a couple of those earmuffs off the wall."

Loki obeyed and went to the peg-holed wall lined with randomly colored earmuffs and he picked out a set and went to Clint's side, waiting pleasantly. The man still stared into Clint's eyes, not really seeing him but keeping Loki in his peripheral vision. Clint cleared his throat and shot his eyebrows up at the guy expectantly.

"Well?"

The guy jumped out of his seat and scurried into the depths of the cage after a hurried apology, shoving the one taking inventory out of his way. He came back to set down the two guns, one rifle and one pistol, and then he backed away for boxes of ammunition. In the meantime, Clint had reached over the counter and floundered around for a leather bound book, dragging it onto the counter and going back to fish for a pen as well. He flipped to a half filled page and began to fill it out with the necessary information while they waited. A couple thin cardboard boxes of bullets were slammed onto the counter, making the archer glance up at the man, unimpressed. Loki seemed amused by the antics of the man and he leaned his arm on the counter beside Clint.

"What's your name?" He asked the man.

"Justin Holt... sir."

Loki looked askance at the archer who was gathering up the weapons and ammunition. "Remember that name, Agent Barton."

"Yeah, I got it," he grunted and jerked his head for Loki to follow him out of the vault, leaving Justin Holt turning white in his seat.

They moved down the long aisle again, going all the way to the end where the last two stalls were unoccupied. He backed Loki into the last one and set the pistol and one of the boxes on the ledge of the firing wall. He put his rifle and bullets in the stall beside Loki's and then came back and gestured down the open range where a paper with rings of color hung waiting.

"This is the range," Clint said. "And like when you first saw my bike, we're gonna do safety stuff first. Ready?"

Loki began rolling up the sleeves of his pale blue shirt and nodded.

"When you're not shooting, leave the gun on the counter. Don't point it anywhere other than downrange, and leave the safety on until you're ready to shoot. See this lever?" He picked up the pistol and clicked a small latch on the side of the gun. "That's the safety. 'On' means the safety is on and it's not going to shoot even if you try to pull the trigger, which is this piece." He tapped the crescent moon shape of metal that was the trigger.

"This is the magazine-" he clicked a button and pulled out a hollow stick of metal, setting the gun on the counter again and holding the magazine up between them. "It holds 10 bullets; you load them yourself." He opened the box beside the gun and pulled out one bullet, thumbing it into the magazine and passing it to the god to finish loading the other 9. Loki, when finished loading, held the full magazine out to Clint but he declined to take it.

"I'm gonna let you put it in," he explained and placed the pistol in Loki's other hand, smirking at the suggestive look the god gave him. He guided Loki through the steps of loading the magazine into the gun and pulling back the chamber to set the first bullet in. He swore he had never been more turned on after seeing Loki slap the mag into place and snap the chamber back.

Clint took the liberty of having the first shot, explaining to the god his stance and where to focus his eyes and adjust the gun by degrees down the sights. Then he squeezed the trigger and popped off a bullet, sending the round through the target dead center. He turned back to Loki after clicking the safety on and setting it on the ledge.

"You never miss," the god murmured, voice almost lost in the din of shots through the range.

Clint shrugged. "Well, I ain't just good with arrows. Ready to try it?"

"Why do you have such a larger weapon than I?"

"That's because it's a two-two-three: a big bullet with a lot of power behind it. This is a twenty-two; it'll still kill ya, but it's a small caliber round. It's good for beginners- there's not much kick and it's not too loud. Kick is recoil- how far and hard the gun will push back against you because of the force of the bullet. You get to use the .22 until you get used to it, work on your aim. Then you can try mine."

He scooted out of the way so Loki could close in on the weapon and pick it up. He stretched out his arms, one hand wrapped around the grip and the other supporting it, and while the pistol wasn't heavy for him in the least, his automatic reaction was to lean back as he aimed. Clint corrected him immediately by pressing up behind him, straightening the god and mirroring his arms over the other's.

"You don't have to lean back, try to lean forward to counteract that urge." He pressed his lips into the god's shoulder, peeking over him to see the target. As he did this, his heart thrummed at the thought that anyone, especially the range safety officer, could come up behind them at any second and see their position. While there was not much odd about correcting the stance of a new shooter, the extremely close proximity of the rehabilitating god and his handler would certainly raise questions. Clint told himself that was why he picked the last stalls on the range, so they could have some semblance of privacy. He huffed hard against the god's shoulder to clear the thoughts from his head.

"Take the safety off," he reminded the god and Loki's finger moved to click the switch. "Okay, now use the sights to aim. Try to put the bullet through the center like I did. When you have your aim, exhale and shoot. Don't hold your breath."

Loki nodded and adjusted the gun, looking down the barrel of the pistol and lining up the red dot at the end to the white ones on the sight. Clint let his arms down from the god's, letting him take his time, and he took a chance at running his hands down Loki's front, trailing them to his hips in a gentle motion. Loki pulled the trigger and jumped a little, chuckling at himself for his foolishness. Clint smiled at him.

"Easy right?"

"Not so much to aim though," the god admitted with disappointment as he noticed the bullet hole in the target very far off from the center. "I rather thought I'd have better aim than that- I throw knives as my weapon of choice."

"Don't get too upset." Clint took the weapon out of the god's hand and set it on the counter. "Throwing knives are a whole different ball-game. That's about muscle movement and timing. I can't throw a knife to save my life, but I can shoot a hummingbird through the heart at a hundred yards with my bow."

He backed away a step and grabbed the plastic and rubber earmuffs off the ledge and wrapped them around Loki's neck.

"So, work on your aim; I'm gonna work on mine, and wear these while I'm shooting: it's loud as fuck and you don't wanna be like me and have 40 percent of your hearing gone. Alright?"

Loki nodded with a slight smile. "Alright."

"Okay," he grinned and moved out of the stall, going into the one next to Loki's and starting to load up the magazine for his rifle. Loki peeked around the corner and spied on Clint as he set up, watching his arms bulge as he hefted the sleek, black rifle to his shoulder and tilted his head to look down the sights. Loki fixed the earmuffs around his head. The shot exploded out of the weapon and Loki jumped at the booming noise, still somewhat loud even through the muffs. Clint wasted no time and continued to shoot steadily, taking his aim and never missing. Loki smiled and turned back to his small pistol and took it up again, concentrating as he aimed and fired at the far off target. He went through the he box of ammunition, fixing his aim steadily as he went. By the end, his grouping was decidedly better than when he started, but the god was getting the hang of it.

Loki breathed hard through his nose and inspected the pistol with its chamber stuck back to indicate there was nothing left in the clip to shoot. He grabbed the barrel to pull the chamber back into place and hissed as he jerked his hand back at the fierce burn it gave his fingertips. A hand grabbed his shoulder and pulled him around. Clint's eyebrows were knit together and he reached out to pull Loki's earmuffs down.

"-can't touch that so soon: it's hot."

Loki frowned as he touched his burnt fingertips together. "I noticed."

"Well that was my bad I guess; I didn't warn you ahead of time. Finish it all?" Clint looked over to the target and its plethora of bullet holes. He hummed and bobbed his head. "Looks better than the first ones. Wanna try mine?"

Clint didn't wait for the god to answer before he scurried into his stall and came back with his rifle and the half-empty box of rounds. He thrust it into Loki's hands and got behind him to set him into position.

"This one you hold against your shoulder," he explained as he jabbed the butt of the gun into the tall one's shoulder. He grabbed his long fingered hand to grip the forestock. "Support the barrel here. _This_ you can touch, it won't burn you if you shoot a lot. Sighting is the same- line up the dots. Here-" he pulled the earmuffs up over Loki's ears again and patted his shoulder. "I already loaded the mag," he shouted through their ear protection. "Just aim and shoot." He backed away a step and let the god concentrate. When the shot rang out and the gun punched back into Loki's shoulder it took the breath out of him for a moment, and he didn't even search for his hole in the target. He looked down at the rifle in amazement, a small smile turning into a triumphant smirk and he turned his head to the archer who waited for his opinion.

"What did you think?"

"I think I would rather shoot this one instead of that puny weapon. Are there any bigger than this?"

Clint chuckled, "Oh yeah: gattling guns, rocket launchers, tanks, bombs. There are bullets as big as my fist." When Loki's eyes widened with excitement Clint held up a hand to hold him off. "You don't get to try any of those. We'd need an outdoor range for those and I don't think anyone would let you handle them anyways- you apparently like big firepower and that's just gonna make everyone nervous. You can keep shooting this one though."

Loki snorted as he looked down at the rifle with a smile. "I'm not sure if I should."

Clint's smile disappeared. "Why not?"

"Unless you know a place here we could be alone afterwards..." Loki leered at the archer and breathed deep, subtly inching forward to back Clint into the partition of the stall, sliding a long leg in between the archer's thighs and gently rubbing his clothed erection against his hip. Clint huffed at the grind of the god against him and he braced his hands flat against the wall behind him, glancing at the open walkway where anyone could simply stroll by and see them.

"Jesus. It gets you that hard?"

Loki groaned quietly as he pushed into the smaller man's hip and chuckled breathily, "Yes."

Clint tried to take calming breaths as his eyes rolled back in his head when the god squeezed his fingers over Clint's length through his jeans. When his head bumped the wall it broke him out of his lusty haze and he grabbed Loki's hips to stop him.

"Can't do this right now," he whispered.

"Then when?"

"I don't know," Clint shook his head softly. "Not here though, we can't risk it."

Loki huffed through his nose and let off the smaller body reluctantly. "Then I suggest I don't shoot your weapon again."

Clint chuckled and agreed, sighing with a smile at the god's power-lust as he tugged the magazine out of the rifle and popped the round in the chamber, clicking on the safety latch. He double checked the pistol for it's safety and took it and the box of .223 rounds out of the stall, motion Loki to follow him. They went back into the weapons holding cage and returned the guns and ammo to the still frightened clerk, Holt. Clint signed the weapons back in the large leather book and Loki hung the earmuffs on their hooks on the wall before they left the range, heading up the giant staircase to the second floor.

Along a long wall of windows were several computer terminals, all separated by tiny walls on the desks. There were fifty terminals down this wide hall, doorways on the other side leading to places Clint never went, didn't know where they led. Most likely rooms of physical files, maps, what-have-you. It was a lofty place with it's big windows letting in the sunlight, giving the area a calm glow as agents passed in and out. As they strolled past the terminals, Loki took a gander at every occupied screen, looking in just for a second over the agents' shoulders. At the very end of the line sat Natasha, using the one computer that was turned sideways from the rest, protecting her from curious passers-by. She leaned into the makeshift cubicle with concentration on her face and slowly crossed out words on a stack of paper. Clint moved to stand behind her, setting his hand on the back of her chair and leaning in to check what she was doing.

"Get anything yet?" he asked as she scrolled down the screen, rolling away from the picture of a young blonde and her name and basic information.

Natasha shook her head. "Not really. Couple possibilities- slim possibilities. They're not important." She hummed in disappointment and looked down at the stack of papers, lining out the girl's name she had apparently cleared. It wasn't a few sheets of paper either.

"This everyone?" Clint tapped the stack with one finger.

"Yep." She typed in the next name and started scanning the file that popped up.

Loki moved to stand near the window, out of the large aisle and nearer to Clint and Natasha. He peered out the window disinterestedly.

"Well, maybe it's not an inside job then," the archer suggested. "Could've been some hit meant for me- you don't know. Maybe Torinto's got it out for me again."

"Hey guys," said a man behind them, making Clint's muscles twitch for his bow.

Clint turned and wished he hadn't, seeing the man's oval face and bald head, he wanted to roll his eyes but refrained. He turned back to the computer and Natasha hadn't turned around at all, continuing to search the database of personnel.

"Hey, Sitwell," Clint grunted.

Sitwell smiled stupidly and leaned in to see the screen.

"Checking up on your coworkers, Agent Romanov?"

Natasha didn't miss a beat, scrolling through the paragraphs of intel. "I'm looking for a replacement in my team- Clint's retiring to spend his old age in Hawaii with Loki."

Clint didn't look amused by her joke, and Sitwell leaned back and looked at Loki with surprise, who played along.

"Agent Romanov, we didn't want to announce our engagement to the help," he complained.

Natasha shrugged. "No one told me." She crossed off another name.

Sitwell looked back and forth between Loki and the agent with a small smile, seemingly pleased with their camaraderie.

Down the hall, a shout rang out and everyone in the hall froze for a moment, and then continued on their way again without interest.

"Agent Barton!" A woman with her hair in a tight bun and even tighter catsuit came barreling down the hall in her tall wedge shoes, looking furious. She stomped up to Clint and waved a paper in his face.

"What is this?"

Clint grabbed the edge of the waving sheet to hold it still and he read it.

"A bill," he told her.

"What the hell are you doing sending a bill to SHIELD for a couple hundred dollars?!"

Clint crossed his arms. "Those were books from the library that got shredded during the ambush at my place. I sure as hell ain't paying for that- wasn't my fault."

"Books? I haven't seen you read anything since we've worked together- I didn't even think you could read!"

"Well, that's a low blow, Agent Hill," Clint accused.

"You didn't graduate high school," Loki chimed in and Clint glared at him.

"You shut up. Hill, did Fury bump you down to accounting after that shit with Hungary? Is that why you're bringing this to me?"

Hill fumed and waved the paper in front of him again before storming off and shouting, "We are not paying for this, Barton!"

"Well, I ain't paying for it!" Clint shouted after her, disturbing all the people at their terminals. "Someone has to- Loki doesn't have any money!"

Agent Hill left the hall in a flurry and everyone turned back to their work after giving the group at the end of the line a glance of shock.

"Your money is his money," Natasha deadpanned and Sitwell chuckled at the inference, making Clint scowl at the bald man.

"Don't you have somewhere to be, Sitwell? Getting some glasses that don't look like they were made in the 70's maybe?"

The agent rolled his eyes at Clint and walked away, giving a curt farewell to the three at the terminal. Clint huffed and watched him go, shaking his head and frowning.

"Hate that guy," he grumbled. "Gives me the fucking creeps- he's too happy."

Natasha leaned closer to her screen and agreed with him noncommittally.

"Been trying to be my friend ever since Coulson died. Fuckin' weirdo."

Natasha got up and grabbed her stack of papers, telling Clint to follow her as she made her way to one of the doors across the hall, typing in a code next to it and waiting for the little red light to turn green and beep at them. She entered the room, and Clint and Loki followed her in, staying back against the empty wall in the tiny room and letting the red-head start unlocking the file cabinets there. She flicked through the folders of one cabinets.

"Thought you didn't like him because he always asked about your sessions."

"That too!" Clint flicked his hands up and then down in exasperation. "Always asking if it was going well, saying he could get me another shrink if I wasn't okay with Winchester. And he would bring up Coulson all the time too! Like he thought I could forget he was dead."

"What is this room?" Loki asked suddenly, cutting through Clint's rant.

Natasha found the file she was looking for and she pulled it out, flipping it open on the small table behind her and sitting down to read through it.

"High-security personnel files. People who work for SHIELD with a high clearance or those who are off the books officially, but still get work under the table."

Clint was taken aback, a little incredulous. "You got clearance that high to be in here?"

She turned a page in the file slowly and didn't look up. "Fury's letting me borrow his clearance: I told him my theory."

"And he believed you?" Clint scoffed.

She breathed deep and finally looked away from the papers, leaning back in her chair to look at the archer. "Makes you think twice about my plan, doesn't it?"

Clint growled and tried not to roll his eyes. He didn't want to think about it. He didn't really care if it was someone in SHIELD trying to bump Loki off- they'd never be able to do it anyway. There were too many people protecting him because of Clint's life in the balance.

"Well, I made my appearance, walked around with him in plain view: I'm going home." He nudged Loki and started for the door, telling the agent he'd see her another day and they left her in the high security vault, heading back to the motorcycle awaiting them in the garage, and then to Clint's apartment.

Loki went right to the window in the kitchen and opened it, leaning against the counter and breathing in the air that whooshed in. He pulled down the tiny succulent plant and dribbled some water into it's earth from the faucet and then put it back on the sill. He bit at his lip as he stared at the opposing building, looking at every brick and it's slightly different color. The woman's window across the way was shut.

Clint peered into the kitchen and looked concerned at the god, who was sighing gently almost back to back, deep in thought.

"You okay?"

Loki deferred the question and didn't turn to face him. "How long have you lived in this house?"

"Uh... couple years." The question took Clint by surprise. He went to the fridge and pulled out a soda.

"And before that?"

"Another apartment. Down the city."

Loki blinked slowly and sighed again.

"What's wrong?"

"What's wrong is you live in a cage. This living space- it's one minuscule window for natural light and clean air, it's tiny rooms- it is a prison. You are a man who yearns for space to roam and the natural world at your feet, and yet you chain yourself to this place. Why?"

Clint watched the god carefully and sipped his coke. He leaned back on the fridge.

"I live here because it's near HQ. Gotta be close to the job."

"And what is your job?"

The archer shrugged. "Helping people, taking out bad guys. Making the world safe one day at a time."

"Is it?" Loki finally turned to look at Clint, seeking something in his eyes but he wasn't sure what just yet. "From what I've seen, from what I know from our time under the Tesseract- I would say you are working for those who would seek to take over the world."

"Oh really?" Clit scoffed.

"Yes!" Loki hissed. "Your SHIELD is systematically destroying all threats large enough to topple them. Wiping out anyone who might disrupt your so-called 'American way' of life." Clint snorted at Loki's opinions but the god continued on: "Those who can't be killed- they're recruited: who are the Avengers?"

This stopped all Clint's sneering and he thought about what the god had said. Clint wasn't one of those who had begun killing or working for gangs, hunted by SHELD. He'd joined after a carefully worded speech from Agent Phil Coulson, something about 'utilizing his special skill set' to 'free the good, common people', like him, from the 'tyrannical fear of the evil of man'. It had been a hell of a speech and Clint was a little sad that he fell for it. It didn't matter how you worded it- he was killing. Just as the bad guys were. The archer felt like he was beginning to understand the hypocrisy claimed by Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. All of the Avengers had killed, and killed many. They had all been threats to society at one point, but they had regret and that's what SHIELD latched on to. The guilt and regret all the Avengers bore made them believe they had to give something back to the world; and protecting it from harm, killing SHIELD's threats assuaged that guilt. Clint believed he was tired of taking orders from whomever thought they were right and the others wrong. In the end, they were all wrong.

Loki seemed to be able to read Clint's thoughts as though they were rolling past his eyes like a billboard in Times Square. He made no jeering remarks or sneers, but he squinted at the archer and waited. Clint shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"What's it matter? Why are you asking me this?"

"I want to know why you stay with SHIELD. You could very well make your own way doing whatever pleases you- yet you lock yourself in a prison to await their beck and call like a servant."

"You didn't seem to have a problem when I was _your_ servant. And there wasn't any difference anyways- I changed employers but it was the same business. You used me just like SHIELD uses me."

Loki nodded in understanding and sighed, giving in to the archer. "As much as I am loathe to admit it, your SHIELD and myself are not quite so different. Both meddling with a power far beyond our control and appreciation. This is that sameness you feel. The Director tells you to shoot and you ask how many times. I command you to kill and you ask how many people. The Tesseract merely drew you into it's warmth with fierce addiction, and with me as it's spokesman you endeavored to serve me in any way to get close to it again."

Clint seemed unable to catch his breath, breathing heavily as though he had been running, but he was something like scared and angry together.

"But you are no longer under the Tesseract and now you see the similarities and you know how disgusting you feel inside for not seeing it sooner. I asked you once before if you would have joined me had I asked it of you, rather than simply taking your choice away, and you said you would not. Because I was the enemy. But you see now that you are choosing from the lesser of two evils. Are you still content to stay with those that would use you for their own agenda?"

"SHIELD doesn't have an agenda, Loki."

The god shook his head and didn't quite smile as he walked away into the living room.

"If you say so." And he dropped onto the couch and flicked on the television.

Clint scoffed and felt a little bewildered and confused, feeling like he'd lost the argument but he wasn't really sure how. Wasn't even sure what it was about. He skulked around the corner and watched Loki watch a nature show, seeing a zebra being devoured by a lion who tried to fight off hyenas at the same time. He went to sit beside him on the couch, resting his chin on his fist with a furrowed brow.

"Should I sleep on the sofa tonight?" Loki asked softly and Clint chuckled in surprise.

"No. I think we can survive a little disagreement without sending someone to the doghouse."

Clint's phone buzzed and he looked at it, a text from Natasha. He replied and then he stretched and groaned.

"I could watch this shit all night."

Loki hummed in agreement and Clint called the nearest pizza delivery joint.

In the soft sounds of the television, flashing light in the darkness, Clint slumped on the couch, face slack but his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He looked over at the god beside him and followed the curve of his neck, watching him sleep with his head leaning on the back of the couch. He thought about Loki's first time in the apartment, when he wandered throughout and was astonished at how little space there was. He remembered Loki's easy gait in the forest, looking at every single plant and life form with pleased curiosity. No matter how out of place the god looked amongst nature, no matter how technologically savvy and quick-learning he was, Clint slowly realized that his tiny apartment- his contained life was draining Loki.

Clint clicked the television off and veiled them in darkness, only the barking of a dog and an occasional passing car heard from the kitchen window. The archer looked down at his hands in his lap and sat, not wanting to move yet. Loki's breathing changed when he woke up, opening his eyes into slits as he realized Clint was still with him. He sighed sleepily.

"I'm sorry. More tired than I expected apparently." He got up with a groan and walked away into the bedroom, leaving Clint to slowly follow behind him. Clint leaned against the door frame and watched the god get undressed and change into his black pajamas, flipping back the mandala patterned comforter and the sheet and sitting gently. He looked up questioningly at the man watching him and Clint bumped off the frame to stand at his feet, arms dangling limply at his sides.

"Are you coming to bed?"

Clint blinked out of his stupor and nodded shakily, clearing his throat. "Yeah. Yeah I am." Though he didn't move to get undressed. He just stared down at the god's legs.

"My words are giving you pause," Loki assessed.

The archer clicked his tongue and pursed his lips as he folded his arms together.

"I've already thought about most of it before. Just, when you say it- it makes me... Uncertain of what the hell I'm doing. What I've been doing. You were right when you said I like space, like to be outside, and it doesn't make sense for me to be so..."

Clint sighed and couldn't believe what he was saying. "I doesn't make sense for me to be so loyal to SHIELD when they keep me-"

"In a cage?" Loki supplied and Clint sighed hard.

"Yeah."

Loki nodded and then scooted back, slipping his feet under the sheets.

"Come to bed," he told the archer softly. "We will discuss this further in the morning."

He pulled the covers over his body and turned onto his side as Clint went about undressing as well and climbed into bed. He laid on his back for an indecisive moment before sliding over to the god and flinging his arm over him. He nuzzled the back of the pale one's neck and gently bit at the knob of spine that protruded. Loki chuckled and swatted back at Clint's leg.

"Stop that- I'm sleeping."

Clint smiled and pressed his forehead against the back of Loki's neck, closing his eyes.


	15. Love My Way

Loki shifted gently under the sheets, trying to get up silently, but the archer was awake anyways, though he kept his eyes shut and just listened. Loki sat on the edge of the bed for a few moments, staring down at the carpet in the dark before sighing through his nose and getting up. At the sound of the bedroom door opening and closing, Clint's eyes popped open. He leaned over to the bedside table and checked his phone for the time, and he grunted at it. He got out of bed and dressed slowly, pausing for a second when he heard soft music start playing from the rest of the apartment. Shuffling out through the living room to the kitchen, Clint watched Loki at the window again, and he felt the slightest twinge of guilt at the longing expression on the god's face as he looked out and up at the world through their tiny window.

With the vaguest sunshine on his pale cheeks, the god seemed to know he was being watched, though he didn't look. He couldn't hear the others approach for the slow jazz pouring in from the neighbor lady's house.

"Did I wake you?"

"I was already awake."

Loki hummed and turned away, opening the fridge, selecting a jug of grape juice and he drank straight from it.

"Something's bugging you," Clint decided as he watch the god drink. "Is it what we were talking about last night? I thought I was the one that was supposed to be all brooding."

The god sighed hard and looked out the window again for a second and then braced himself against the counter, staring down into the sink.

"I despise this existence as a caged animal," he rasped. He gripped the countertop angrily, but he tried hard not to let it into his voice. "There is absolutely no excitement in it. Your world is interesting enough and, fortunately for you all, it holds my curiosity... But such dull lives humans lead!"

And then he sneered and wheezed in a harsh laugh. "The most fun I've had here is being chased down by those bandits- and we didn't even get to gut the bastards for their stupidity!"

Clint chuckled a little, though he thought that maybe he shouldn't. "Yeah, you're right, regular living is boring."

He grunted as he lifted himself to sit on the counter and reached out for the jug. "Let me have some of that." He took a long pull from the bottle as Loki had. "Life as an agent though- CIA, Special Forces, SHIELD- all those jobs where you get to kill or steal or generally fuck people up, they come with a price tag. You could die at any moment. Someone can walk up and shoot you in the head. You could get captured, tortured. You get followed and chased and everyone usually hates you and can't trust you. It can be stressful- you're always on your guard. You're always suspicious of every person and every action. Someone says one thing in the wrong tone and suddenly you're wire-tapping their phones 'cause you're just not sure about them anymore."

"Any human can die at any moment," Loki scoffed and shook his head condescendingly. "Why choose a life of sluggish subjugation when the world is at your fingertips- just ripe for the taking? Fools they are."

Clint shrugged. "Some people aren't cut out for that kind of life- criminal or agent. Some people just want to blend in. You sound like you're dying for something to do."

"I am," Loki sighed.

Clint drank from the jug again and Loki watched intently as his throat moved with the swallow. "If Fury were to offer you a job at SHIELD, would you take it?"

The god scoffed with distaste. "Of course not. Sniffing out drug lords and tracking mass murderers; chasing slave traders- there is no fun in that. Being the so-called 'good guy' is not exciting in the way I would like. The righteous man does these things out of a twisted sense of protection and self-imposed responsibility." He looked at Clint with a curious gaze. "Are these your reasons for your service with SHIELD?"

"No," Clint chuckled and handed the jug back to Loki. "No, I just like to shoot people."

Loki blinked in surprise. "Truly?"

"Yeah. I like to shoot things and fight. Being sneaky and undercover is fun. Taking people out before they even knew I was there. I know what you're talking about with the righteous man- that was partly why I joined, but I stay for the black ops. It can get boring if it's a stakeout or recon, but I know that when I get the intel, it's fun time."

Loki hummed and nodded interestedly. "Sabotage."

Clint nodded. "Bitchin'."

"Theft."

"Thrills."

"Trickery. Scheming. Lies."

Clint squinted at the god but smiled all the same, thinking he was catching on to something. "What are we talking about here?"

Loki put the juice back in the fridge and leaned against the counter opposite to Clint's, arms out wide to hold himself up against the edge.

"Barton, you know I have no intention of redeeming myself in the eyes of the AllFather. I will get my magic back in some way or another. How, I know not, but it will happen. Until I find the means of my recovery, I would quite like to... 'fuck around' I believe the term is. But as much of the ways of humans are still unknown to me and I have no citizenship anywhere, I cannot go about my plans alone."

"You have plans?"

"I will," Loki assured and leveled Clint a serious look. "If you come with me."

The archer was serious then too, watching the god for a sign that he was playing him. He did say he wanted to fuck with someone. "You want to run away and just-" he chortled and wheezed as he thought about it. "Just be the God of Chaos on Earth."

Loki merely nodded, but he smirked, feeling that spark of thrill he'd sorely missed. He hoped deep inside himself that this would come to pass, that he'd played his cards right and spoken to the heart in just the right tone to bring Clint to him.

Clint snorted softly and jumped down from the counter. "Sounds like some TV show romance where we ride into the sunset together to live out our bad-guy dreams."

"It could be."

He looked at the god incredulously. "So, what, we steal the Mona Lisa? Fuck each other in the cracked-open safe of the Geneva Swiss Bank?"

"Among many other things." Loki was trying his hardest to keep a straight face. He had to play this right- not sneering nor smiling, in order to get what he wanted. "You know I am no hero, Clint. And while you play the hero- the agent who makes the world better one villain at a time... This is not who you are meant to be. It's not who you want to be."

Clint glared at the floor for a moment, thinking of his next move, the repercussions it might have. He looked up at the god and considered him carefully, taking in his hopeful green eyes and unsure frown. He already knew what he was going to say- he never thought about the future, only what was put in front of him. The blond moved in close to the tall god and he grabbed the counter edge behind Loki, bumping his forehead on the other's chest. He was breathing a little harder with the drumming of his heart, starting to get excited by the mere mention of what Loki had planned.

"We could never go back," Clint grumbled roughly to the god's chest.

"I know."

"We'd be hunted by everyone, not just SHIELD. Every government we would ever wrong, every town, every hopeful soul."

"I know."

Clint looked up and saw Loki's smile was genuine and soft and his heart beat harder still. Loki rested his hands on Clint's waist and gently rubbed the shirt over his sides. The blond thumped his head against Loki's chest again, closing his eyes and wishing. Wishing they could leave right now. Loki breathed into Clint's hair and brought his hands up to cup his face, forcing the archer to look at him.

"I want to play 'Tesseract'," he said low in his throat. "I want you to lead me across this world, leaving hurricanes of hate and envy in our wake, and when I point and want, you say-"

"When do you want it."

Loki's grin was feral. "Yes."

Clint's eyes bored into Loki's; grey and green without a vein of opal-blue in sight, and he smirked and pulled Loki down for a kiss. They hummed between kisses before Clint locked their lips together and flicked his tongue against Loki's, holding his head hard with both hands. He tried not to stand on his tiptoes to get his fill, but had to anyway, surging up against the god and feeling that slight rub of their jeans against each other. Loki panted into Clint's mouth and pulled the archer's hips against his, grinding their hardening lengths together. Clint groaned and broke their kiss, huffing short breaths over Loki's collar as he rutted against the god, using the countertop as leverage for his thrusts.

When he felt cool fingers running down his waist to dip into the edge of his pants he slowed his movement, letting the god snap open his jeans and slide his hand in to grip his length in one teasing squeeze. Clint tugged the clothes down around his hips to show himself and he moaned low in his throat as he took himself in hand while Loki undid his own pants and shoved them down, pulling them flush again to finally touch skin to skin. Clint dropped his forehead on the god's shoulder and wrapped his arms around him, digging his fingers into the muscles of Loki's back as the god cupped his half-uncovered ass to grind their cocks together between their bellies. Loki's eyes slid shut and he moaned in broken stutters as they pushed together.

Clint tried to gather his wits and panted as he unclawed one hand from the god's back to flail around blindly at the cabinet doors until he found which end to open. The god leaned down to bite at Clint's neck with a wide open jaw and Clint's hips faltered in their movement, but it gave him the moment to hazily look into the cabinet and grab a bottle, slamming it onto the counter before viciously grinding against the god again, making him squeeze his ass hard. Clint wet his lips and grunted against Loki's shoulder.

"Gonna fuck you."

The proclamation made Loki gasp against Clint's ear, running his lips over the soft flesh.

"Here?"

"Right here," the archer breathed, blindly pushing Loki's jeans down to the floor and grabbing his thigh, pulling the leg up to hitch around his hip. "Right here."

He unscrewed the bottle and dipped his fingers inside, bringing them out dripping thickly with oil. He brought the hand down between them and slid one slick finger into the god, making his breath flutter in his throat. The god's eyes rolled back and he wrapped his leg around Clint's waist harder, trying to pull it all closer. He held himself up against the counter while Clint still rubbed his cock against his and slid another finger into him. Loki's neck went limp and he moaned, huffing open-mouthed against his own chest.

"I won't make it for another," he panted. "I'm ready."

Clint grabbed Loki's hair to pull his head up for a kiss, messy and wet as he pulled his fingers out and dipped them in the bottle again to slick his length with the oil. Loki braced himself on the countertop and wrapped his other leg around the archer's hips, feeling the tip of the man sliding back and forth against his opening. Clint stood his ground and grabbed the god's hips, digging his fingers into the flesh hard enough to bruise. He leaned forward and nudged the tip of his cock into the god, sighing with how easily it slid in. He thrust his face into Loki's chest and bit into his pec as he slid further inside, holding back his moan to hear Loki begin panting again.

The god strained to hold himself up on one arm and hold Clint by the back of his neck, craning to rub his lip against the man's forehead and fluffing the blond hair with his heavy breaths. Clint shoved his last inches harshly into the god, earning him a loud groan and a squeeze of the legs around him. Loki's eyes squeezed shut and his brows knit together as the archer pushed and pulled at his hips to help slide himself in and out. He hissed and bit his lip and urged Clint further, using his legs to pull the length inside him harder, helping Clint set the pace.

Clint panted hard and leaned back from Loki's chest and started to thrust in time with the urging of the god, snapping his hips harshly against him. He dug his blunt nails into the flesh and slapped their skin together with every thrust of his cock. Loki growled as the length jabbed his insides, waiting for that one spot inside him to light on fire. Clint adjusted his sweaty grip and hiked the hips up further, shoving Loki's back into the counter and piercing his cock straight in, making Loki howl to the ceiling and scratch his nails deep up Clint's back. The open moans Loki funneled straight into the archer's ear when he curled around him to hold tighter urged Clint to fuck him harder, faster, needing to hear more. His legs shook with the effort and he knew he wasn't going to be able to hold them up any longer. He pulled Loki down by the neck and dropped to the tiles, sitting on his knees and continuing to fuck the god into the cabinets. The new position didn't allow for their bodies to touch at any place but hips to ass and Clint still held Loki's hips to push him onto his cock while the god gripped the edge of the counter to hold himself steady. Practically sitting on the archer forced him deeper inside, urging the pace into a frenzy, with Loki gasping for breath as his insides jolted at every well-aimed thrust. He reached clumsily for Clint's hand and led him to his cock to jerk him off, feeling his finish near. Loki panted brokenly as his body pulled taut and he spilled over the archer's hand, face twisted in pure pleasure as he came. Clint squeezed his eyes shut and growled hard when he felt the god tighten to a vice-like grip around him. His hips stuttered against the pale body and he cursed over and over as emptied his come into him, milking himself with the last jerky thrusts of his orgasm before he slowed enough to seat the god directly on him.

Clint released Loki's hips and pulled him flush against his chest, holding the god up as they caught their breath in the aftermath. Loki wrapped his arms around Clint's shoulders and he panted against his neck, heartbeat beginning to die down to it's normal pace. The archer embraced him, rubbing his nose against the god's shoulder and feeling the sweat soaked through their shirts until Loki pulled his head up and slotted their lips together in a slow kiss.

They rested rested their foreheads together and breathed slowly with Loki fingering the archer's collar absently. Clint rubbed the god's sides and sighed.

"We're supposed to see Fury today," he muttered softly.

"Mm. When?"

"Less than an hour. We'll be late."

The god snickered. "I think our stolen time was used well."

"Definitely," Clint grunted as he shifted to lay Loki down on the floor, pulling his soft flesh out of him and settling himself over the prone body. He swept the black waves of hair back and looked into Loki's eyes, arms framing his head on the tiles. The god gazed up at him and blinked slowly. They merely saw each other in the quiet of the kitchen, smooth jazz coming to their ears again now that they had their wits about them for anything but each other.

Clint mused to himself what would have to come next, seeing as he just agreed to escape with the god and run amok in the world. It would be some time before they could leave, everything had to be meticulously planned for them to get away with this scheme. As he looked down at the pale thing under him, he surmised Loki was thinking the same; wondering what to do first. They could tell no one until the deed was done and that day might be a long time ahead of them.

Loki broke the archer out of his thoughts with a brush of his fingers on his belly. Clint half-smiled contentedly and bent his head to catch his lips again. The god's legs lifted and trapped Clint against him, pulling to rub their soft lengths together. The god hummed into the slow kiss and felt himself hardening again, hoping to coax Clint firm as well. Clint freed his lips and ground his hips into Loki's, watching him close his eyes and moan with the stimulation.

"Again?"

Loki smirked. "We're already going to be late, what's a few minutes more?" 

Loki had led the way into the conference room, Clint trailing behind him with ease, a serene look on his face. The door swooshed shut behind them and all the bodies in the room swiveled to see them.

"Thank you for joining us," Fury remarked sarcastically, standing at the head of the table. "I know it can be difficult to make time for us in your busy schedule."

Loki tilted his head in appreciation and posed himself in his chair gracefully. "It's not a problem, I do love coming to these gatherings of 'heroes', seeing them behind the scenes."

Clint rolled his eyes and fell into his seat with a slouch, hands in his coat pockets. He bobbed his head in greeting to Steve beside him, who looked at him with slight disappointment.

"'Sup."

The captain furrowed his brows at the archer and turned away to give his attention to Fury, leaving Clint to roll his eyes again behind him. The rest of the Avengers listened attentively to the Director who was giving a brief about a group of vigilantes that had finally done enough to register on SHIELD's radar. Apparently they liked to spout about 'spiritual freedom' and killed under those terms.

Clint rolled his head along the back of the chair and showed Loki his expression of unimpressed boredom, swiveling his seat left and right with impatience. Loki chuckled low in his throat and continued to watch the Director speak. The archer couldn't bring himself to care about the meeting, still listening and digesting the information, but he found the god sitting beside him to be a nice distraction. He let his eyes rove over Loki's body lustily.

"Agent Barton," Fury barked, wrenching Clint from his greedy gaze. The Director leveled him an expectant look. "Is this briefing not up to your standards? Having a hard time bringing yourself down to our level?"

"Am I going to take any part in this mission, sir?" Clint asked seriously. He'd received too many briefings and subjected to learning everything there was to know about the topic just to be skipped over in favor of Captain America or Iron Man. Why send a man with an arrow when you could send a man with an arsenal, or a man who counted as five in one?

"I'd like you to," Fury said.

"Whoa, uh-" Tony swiveled his chair to look at the whole room and he gestured at Loki and Clint with a pen in hand. "He's got a pet to take care of- crate training and all that. How does that enter in to taking out a-"

"The leash, I know," Fury interrupted. "Loki will stay within his allotted distance during the mission, fitted with a communicator and tracker directly linked to Agent Barton to aid in this endeavor."

All the eyebrows rose at the man's announcement of Loki's semi-involvement in the mission, and some of them balked. Including Clint.

"Uh, heh, I don't think that's gonna happen," He scoffed.

"I agree with Agent Barton's sentiment," Loki drawled, confused by the sudden turn of events. "Has the thought never occurred to you I might not want to play?"

"Well, seeing as I want Barton on this mission, and you are attached to him with an unknown disciplinary action if you get too far away- you'll play because Barton will play."

Tony quirked his head and was amused against himself as he regarded the pair at the back of the room. "You don't know what happens if he goes past the quarter mile?" He smiled at Loki condescendingly. "What's the matter, Princess- Hawkeye got you chained to the bed?"

Steve tutted the bearded man and tried to put him down with a look of distaste. "Tony..."

"This plan sounds really unnecessary," Bruce spoke quietly, looking at Director Fury with concern. "If it's so much extra work to keep- him, and Barton together, why not just send someone else?"

Fury raised his brow at the scientist. "Are you volunteering?"

"Thankfully, I'm not the subterfuge kind of guy," Bruce sighed and leaned back in his chair with his hands folded over his stomach. "You know when you need the Other Guy."

Natasha, who had been silent and watchful during this exchange finally spoke up. "This is a trial-run to see how well they can work around their leash while simultaneously completing a mission. If it can be done with as few snags as possible, it could be a tilt in the right direction for more involvement of Loki in our outings." She turned to Fury. "If that's your intention."

Fury nodded. "Very perceptive, Agent Romanov."

The responses to Natasha's assessment were loud and doubtful, scoffs and riotous laughter.

"You cannot be serious," Loki glowered with contempt.

Tony jerked in his seat with a snicker, trying to hold his laughter in by biting his knuckle. "Will you have to give Clint a new codename? I think 'Santa' will work perfectly if Loki gets to be 'Blitzen'." He chuckled behind his hand until it grew into a choking laughter.

Clint sighed in exasperation and stared up at the ceiling. "Jesus."

"I will not be joining your little band of misfits," Loki argued. "If Barton must take part in a mission, then I can perhaps be swayed to accompany him, but I will not be 'joining up' to supplement your agenda. I will not make merry with your pawns of vengeance."

Clint was shocked by Loki's non-rejection of Fury's half-baked plan to send them out together. "Really? You'd go for it?"

Loki stopped him with a raised finger for patience. "But, I must remind you that if I am to die while in the Hawk's custody, then so too shall he die."

The Director was indignant. "Is that a threat?"

"It is Odin's stipulation of the contract between my handler and I. If I am killed, then Barton is killed. I am merely reminding you of that fact."

"Hm," Fury intoned. "Then you best not die out there."

Steve looked bewildered. "Is it really worth risking one of your best agents just to see if Loki will play ball? He even said he wouldn't join-"

Tony shared in Steve's confusion. "Why gamble Clint's life for a washout, evil tyrant?"

Fury put up his hands to silence them, looking apologetic. "This is coming from the World Council. They want to test this out and they asked me to make sure it got done. So, get it done."

The Avengers were speechless, all thinking to themselves different scenarios for potential destruction of their team, of their friend. They looked lost and resigned. The god was annoyed and looked away from them at Clint, who noticed the attention and gazed back. The others observed Clint with worry, like they had lost him already.

"Can I talk to you?" Clint suggested and nodded his head towards the door. He got up without waiting for Loki's answer and headed away, hearing Loki follow him. They stopped outside the conference room, across the walkway to lean against the banister and look down to the ground floor of the headquarters.

The archer spoke quietly, holding on to his arms and glancing at agents who walked by on their way to wherever.

"You're really okay with this?"

"It would seem as though I have no choice- unless you would like to find out what the punishment is for straying too far from your side."

Clint shook his head violently. "No," he whispered. "No, I don't want that- if it kills you then I'm dead too. This could be dangerous."

"It could be quite perilous indeed," Loki concurred with a sigh. "Though they are giving us the opportunity to begin our work together, unbeknownst to them. We could seize this chance to use them for everything they're worth before our departure."

Clint's mouth fell open and he glanced around suspiciously before stepping nearer to the god, keeping their backs to the door. "You wanna steal from SHIELD?"

"Think on it- they have weapons, technology far beyond what is available to the common man, clout with companies and governments; their fingers dangling into the swamps of criminal bases. Most of what we need is readily available, if you know how to ask for it."

Clint expelled a large huff of air and leaned his arms on the banister. "So you shadow me on these missions- and in the meantime milk them for all they've got. Somehow 'lose' a few handy tools and get replacements handed right to us."

"Exactly," Loki smiled. "They're fools. I'll be learning the technology and skills of an agent in order to survive these assignments, while they pine for my reluctant agreement into your ranks."

"Oh, Jesus," Clint snorted as realization came upon him. "They'll be training you to sneak right out from under them and disappear from the radar. Won't even know they did it until we're gone."

"We'll have them eating from the palm of our hands," Loki gloated.

Clint chuckled and rubbed his face, smiling all the while. "Do you think if I said it was punishment for rejecting Fury's offer, they'd let me fuck you on the table in there?"

"I am still prepared from our last encounter," Loki teased with a smirk.

Clint snickered and pulled the god away from the ledge by the arm. "Come on."

The two entered the room again, interrupting the other's heated conversation into silence. They looked guilty, knowing their abrupt silence revealed to Clint they had been talking about him and the situation. Fury stood waiting for the word from the archer, thinking the two had been discussing their options on accepting the mission or not. Or possibly Clint trying to convince Loki into it or not. He wasn't sure. He found their forced coexistence strange with how nonplussed they acted. It made him uncomfortable.

"Well?" Fury prompted.

Clint dug his fists into his coat pockets again and said, "We'll need weapons."


	16. Back to Black

Clint's arms were straining, starting to shake and a drip of sweat slid down one bicep as he groaned. Loki panted and growled beside him, lowering himself to the blue plastic mats and then pushing himself back up just to do it all over again. A whistle tutted at them from behind and the two dropped to the mats, huffing hard.

"Two minutes!" Natasha barked at them, stepping around them to sit on the bench.

Loki growled again, blowing his wild hair from his face, cheek flat against the mat. "I hate this."

"I know," Clint chuckled breathily. "Think of the goal- this is all for the goal."

The god squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, nodding at Clint and resigning himself to sweating on the mats while they rested for two minutes.

Natasha blew her whistle again as she got up and the men rose to stand. She strutted up to them and folded her arms.

"I don't know what you're getting up for- sit-ups; get on the ground."

And the two dropped to the mats on their backs, settling with their knees up. When they were in position Natasha held the whistle to her mouth,

"Five sets of twenty; thirty seconds in between for rest on my mark. Ready?"

"I want to kill you," Loki said bluntly.

She smirked and blew the whistle, prompting the two to begin pulling their bodies into sitting position and then back down flat twenty times until she sounded the whistle again and they laid for a rest. After thirty seconds she blew again and they started all over again, grunting and huffing, shirts already soaked with sweat. The redhead stalked around them as they worked, scrutinizing their form and blowing her whistle for rests and starts. While Clint began to falter in his sit-ups, getting slower until he could barely complete a sit, Loki huffed and moved faster, keeping his own count and resting when he reached the limit without the whistle's prompting. Natasha stood above Clint's head and scowled down at him while he looked at Loki and chuckled.

"Whoa! Go, baby, go," he cheered quietly between them as he watched the god work quickly.

"That should be you," Natasha accused, clearly unhappy. "He's a newbie- he shouldn't be beating you."

Loki sighed and wheezed as he rested, counting out the seconds in his head.

"He's also a god," Clint reminded her.

"No, he's not."

"I think I would know: I'm the one that sleeps with him."

Loki chuckled breathily, "She's right, you know. I'm not a god, I merely say so because I'm egoistic."

"Would you shut up? I'm trying to build you up a bit here, and you're just shitting on me."

Loki started his reps again with a smile on his face, cheeks red from the exertion and Clint rolled his eyes and started up with him. They finished their workout- going through a two mile run and bouts of pull-ups and then thirty full minutes of swimming- and then Natasha let them go for the day. The next day would be a break from the body work and instead would train Loki in weapons. The pair went for the showers to clean themselves of their sweat and chlorine, and then they left headquarters with their legs and arms heavy and burning. It would start all over again the day after next, with more reps or more time added on to their sets of workout routine- pushing Loki harder and faster. Clint had already gone through the whole process years ago when he became an agent of SHIELD- it had been grueling and painful and he had thought he wouldn't make it. But he was doing it again at Loki's side to make the god feel like there was a partnership between them. There already was; Loki and Clint knew they were partners in SHIELD when they would eventually get their missions, they knew they were partners in their relationship; but Clint did it for the same reason couples dieted together, worked out together even if one of the duo didn't need to do those things. It made the other feel loved, appreciated. Made them feel like the other cared. So he sweated and strained and complained at Loki's side.

* * *

On the back of the couch, right as they opened the door of the apartment, Clint saw a box as long as his hand and not too tall and it made his whole face light up. He hopped over to it with a chirp of glee, making Loki give him an odd look as he toed off his boots by the door. Clint opened the lid of the box and grinned wider, turning around with it in hand and sliding up to the god's side.

"Look, look, look! I got you something."

Loki looked carefully between the blond and the box, slightly suspicious, seeing as the package was miraculously in their abode and Clint hadn't left his side in weeks long enough to find gifts. Clint flipped off the lid again and waited as Loki inspected the contents.

Knives. Long and sharp with the edge of the blades colored in a shade-shifting hue from warm gold to sickly green. The handles slightly curved down were wrapped in gold twine around the matte black of the metal. Loki stared down at the knife on top of a couple sheets of wrapping paper, concealing the few other identical weapons beneath it and he had no words. Clint didn't take his lack of reaction as a bad sign, half-hoping the gift would render the god speechless, he instead reached inside the box to lift up the knife and hold it out by the top of the blade. Loki took it gently with his fingers caressing its hard edges and catching against the twine of the handle, staring with wide eyes at the colors changing along the sharp edge as he turned it in the light.

"There's four of 'em," Clint supplied gently. "I'm gonna have the guys at work make a holster for them. You can wear them on our missions... If you want."

Loki smiled. "I want."

"Yeah, I figured," Clint chuckled.

"Where- How did you procure these without my-"

"Doesn't matter how I got 'em- I'm giving them to you now. I got my bow to keep me happy, but your knives are tucked away in a safe in Asgard probably, so... These aren't as fancy as yours but it's what we lowly humans have to work with."

Loki gives the knives a loving look and then meets Clint's eye with a smile. "Thank you. They're lovely." He moves in to kiss the blond, fisting the dagger in his hand and wrapping his arm around him to gently drag the tip of the blade up the leather coat and over the collar, touching the point to the tanned skin of his cheek and scraping along his jaw like a warning.

Clint groaned at the thrill of the knife along his face, eyes open to watch it move while he flicked his tongue out against Loki's lip teasingly. Loki broke away with a pleased breath and smiled still as he let the knife point skitter down Clint's throat and then hang at his side.

"Dangerous business, babe," Clint chuckled.

"Mmm. That's why I like it."

Clint reached up to kiss him one more time before heading into the kitchen with his explanation of 'thirsty' on his lips. He grabs a soda from the fridge and pops it open by the sink, where he takes a sip and reaches with his other hand for the plant on the windowsill. He waters it and puts it back, going to lift the window to let the neighbor lady know he was home and he stops short when he sees a dark form of a man walk by in her kitchen, all dark clothes and ski mask even. Panic suddenly shoots through him and he's shouting at Loki when another man in black scurries past the kitchen window.

"Loki, you know how to get to that woman's apartment?" he asks hurriedly as he runs into the bedroom to grab his gun. Loki stands frozen in the living room as Clint comes rushing back in and out the door, calling for Loki to follow. The god stumbles up behind him, questioning and a little bewildered as Clint tells him what he saw. Loki leads the way into the next apartment building and up to the woman's floor, but then he backs away for Clint to get ahead of him when they reach the door, gun at the ready. Clint wastes no time listening in to assess the situation, he just thrusts his shoulder into the door to throw it open and he checks his blind spots. There's a loud shuffling through the right end of the apartment where it leads away, most likely into the bedrooms, and Clint can hear that there are two men moving heavily around, but another sound like struggle and faint groaning.

He peeks around the corner to see down the hall, finding the open-walled kitchen and then further down another few doors, all of them open. But it's the pair of feet, one slippered and one bare just poking into view on the floor of the farthest room that gets him running down the hall, heart pounding as he hopes she'll move her feet before he can reach her. He hears Loki stepping down the hall at a slower pace, but Clint's unconcerned for his lover just then- he barrels into the room and stops short at the sight of a black-clothed man kneeling at the woman's head and Clint aims his gun up to shoot him just as he hears a shout of his name and then another body jumping against his back, wrapping arms around him and pulling down his weapon. It's a struggle when Clint's being pulled back and forth, Loki lunging onto the man at Clint's back and pulling him down as the man who had been kneeling rose up and grabbed Clint by the hair and slammed his fist into his face. Loki was snarling as he wrestled the man away and more shouts were heard from Loki and another man that just made an appearance, taking Loki by surprise. As Clint's ears started to ring high pitched from the pain in his face, he noticed a slight feeling of wooziness that was coming upon him. He belatedly felt soreness in his right arm and he looked down at it like time was moving slowly, seeing the red dot of a needle-prick before breathing hard like he couldn't catch his breath and looking back up slowly at the black figure above him. He wasn't even sure when he'd started falling to the floor, but he was unconscious before his knees touched the ground.

* * *

When Clint awoke next, sight blurry and breathing labored and thick like the air was muggy. His body jerked reflexively as his brain began to wake up, sending signals of worry when he found himself kneeling on a hardwood floor and his arms wrapped around a pillar from behind. When his heart began to flutter in panic, Clint took slow breaths through his nose and forced himself calm, eyes flicking around the area to assess the situation. The walls were white, large barred windows along the wall to his left, and thick, white pillars like the one he was chained to blocked the view to the entire room. Chained to another pillar he saw the woman from the apartment, chained and kneeling just like he was, but her head hung down to her chest, still unconscious. There was faint sounds of voices nearby, and Clint could see someones shoulder peeking out from behind a far pillar.

On his left a door opened with a clank and a slim man with thick glasses rolled a canister on a dolly into the room. He glanced at Clint as he pushed the dolly by towards the direction of the voices. The man seemed to not give Clint a single thought, looking away calmly like he had been window shopping and saying aloud:

"Your guy's awake."

The shoulder shifted and the rest of the body came into view as another man turned around the pillar to see Clint for himself. There was a scraping of chairs against the floors and then three others came to see as well. The man rolling in the gas container simply went about his business, unloading it from the dolly and tapping the glass of the pressure dial to read and make notes. The shoulder-man walked closer to Clint and Clint put on a blank expression, waiting to hear the word. What he heard was a clinking of chains from the other side of the room, behind a pillar he couldn't see around. Clint felt a little relief as the sound let him know Loki was in the room. The man glanced in the direction of the noise before ignoring it and squatting in front of him, elbow on his knee and holding his chin up on a fist. He looked curious and contemplative.

"Clinton Barton," he says simply and it makes Clint's eyes tighten. If he notices he doesn't show it, smiling slightly as he admits that Clint's appearance in the woman's apartment caught them off guard. "We had a hard time getting your friend to go down- he's got a resilient spirit." And then he chuckled and hitched a thumb over his shoulder at one the guys behind him. "Almost broke Abe's face with his head!"

At this there's a faint and quick snort from behind the pillar, chains tinkling again, and Clint's eyes automatically follow the sound.

"Yeah he's got a few bruises, some cuts. Maybe a broken bone, but I'm not a doc.- I dunno." The man shrugs with his words and Clint's chest tightens in worry. The man looks behind him when a scoff is heard.

"I've had worse from you, darling." And it is Loki's voice, and Clint can't help the chuckle that breaks out of him from Loki's accusation. The man smirks at the comment, seeming to admire Loki's fire.

"What do you want with her?" Clint nodded his head in the woman's direction.

The man pursed his lips and shrugged mildly like the situation was no big deal. "She's just another of the chosen to join the flock. And now-" he got up with a grunt and smiled gently- "so are you." He patted Clint on the head lovingly and turned away with his men to the chairs hidden away behind the pillars, leaving Clint speechless. The men noisily pulled up their chairs and continued their conversations as if the interruption had never occurred.

Clint scoffed to himself, surprised by how easy these guys were taking everything, how easy the boss had spoken to him- meaning no harm by his tone but his very being gave off a weird vibe that rubbed Clint the wrong way. He shifted his arms which were aching by the angle they were pulled back at, wrists clamped down tight in cuffs with only room for a link of the chain that wrapped around the pillar. He sighed resolutely, knowing he'd just have to wait and see what the goons had planned for them.

"I don't suppose any of the workouts have enhanced your godly strength have they?"

Loki didn't snort or laugh like Clint had expected. Instead the god repressed a sigh of his own. "No. I couldn't break out in my position anyway, unless I wanted to tear off my manhood with the force of the chains whipping about. I'm assuming you were not chained the same way as I have been."

Clint glanced at the still unconscious woman again. "I'm like her, if you can see her."

"I can. And I have more restraints than that."

"Good- that means they're scared of you. Can you see them?" he asked and listened ti Loki's chains as the god moved around.

"Very little of them, but yes," Loki confirmed quietly.

Clint closed his eyes and continued to breath slowly. It wasn't an ideal situation to be in- chained to poles with a hostage and a green-horn agent, but he'd make do. He decided to think of this as a training exercise.

"Tell me what you see."

There was more chain clinking and a sniff from the god as he got into position.

"A table the men are sitting at," Loki began. "A... cylinder? A metallic cylinder that was brought in-"

"Anything written on it?"

"No. Numbers: 10651-A. And... helmets of some sort? I'm not sure. Masks possibly but they're strange."

Clint's brows furrowed and he shook his head. "Strange like what?"

"I'm thinking," Loki snipped and then he seemed to come to a devastating conclusion. "Gas masks. I've seen them in films- they're gas masks."

"What the fuck?" Clint whispered to himself. "They're going to gas us to death?"

Just then, the woman began to stir, body trying to lean and lie from its kneeling position, and moaning as her brain tried to focus again. Just as Clint had done she jerked in her bonds and began to panic before Clint attempted to calm her and draw her attention. She looked at him with wide, scared eyes and drew a blank face when he asked her name. She shook her head to clear her mind and took a moment to remember herself, stammering as she spoke. Her name was Imelda.

"Well, it's nice to meet you finally. I'm Clint. You already know Loki."

Imelda looked in the gods direction and then back at Clint.

"What's going to happen to us?"

"They're going to attempt to kill us," Loki said bluntly and Clint clicked his tongue when the gods words made Imelda's eyes widen in renewed panic.

"No, no- Loki, dammit-"

"I'm merely being honest."

"What the hell happened to being a god of lies?"

"Only when it suits my purpose."

Clint rolled his eyes and looked towards Imelda again.

"Yes, okay, they're going to try to kill us, but that's not going to happen. We're going to wait these assholes out, and then make our move when the time is right."

"And would you care to let us in on your plan?" Loki requested saucily.

"No, because I don't have one. I'm just gonna wing it."

Clint swore he could hear Loki's dickhead smirk.

"My Hawk," the god praised quietly.

Clint snorted at the god, but he loved Loki's tone, one that said he took pride in the agent. When the leader of the band of bad guys started waltzing back over to them, a pleased smile on his face, Clint stiffened and watched Imelda put on a brave face. She sat up tall from her position on the floor and met the guys eye with a condescending glare of her own.

"Good morning, my lady!" he announced and made the move for a tiny bow in Imelda's direction. The Irishwoman was having none of it, snarling:

"What the hell is meant by this? Who are you?"

The man chuckled and looked at his cohorts. "The Irish have such fire." Then he turned his attention to her again. "My dear, you may call me Prophet- everyone does. And!" he took a deep breath and folded his hands together in front of him- "I am here- you are here, to get closer to God."

Clint suddenly belted out a disbelieving laugh and hung his head. "Oh my god," he muttered with a smile. The archer hadn't tried to keep his sentiment to himself, surprised and amused by the theatrics of the 'Prophet'.

"Are you having trouble with attendance in the chapel?" Imelda snarked, but Prophet wasn't offended by her words.

"Not at all, ma'am. This is a chapel in itself. Any place where we may worship out Lord is a church, be it a palace or a hovel. You and your- gallant friends have been chosen to join God's precious flock!"

Imelda didn't have anything to say then, but her eyes tightened in quizzical suspicion. Prophet smiled at her expectantly and when she didn't say anything more, he clapped his hands together and sighed.

"Well! Let's get started then. Gentlemen-" he turned to his men and they dispersed, gathering things and making noise. Clint couldn't see, but he heard the metallic 'bong' of the canister being tapped. When Prophet came back, he wore a black two-cylinder gas mask over his face with a white cross painted onto the forehead. One of the men, also is a gas mask- they all wore one- rolled the canister behind Prophet on the dolly. The Prophet sighed happily and turned to see all of his captives.

"Well gentlemen, and lady, let's get to work. Now I need everyone to remain calm during this process," he warned as he gripped the valve of the canister and slowly twisted it, letting out a hiss of its contents. He continued to open the valve until it made no sound, open completely to let the chemicals flow out.

"Everybody breathe deeply," Prophet murmured.

Imelda twitched under her chains, fear dawning on her face.

"Oh lord!" she moaned and wiggled in her restraints.

Clint could smell the chemicals immediately and it was an automatic response to hold his breath, but he wouldn't be able to hold it indefinitely and he breathed again in the next moment. He wondered how Loki would fare against this onslaught and the heart pounding thought occurred that maybe it could kill him. They were all meant to die in here, but Clint was sure it wasn't supposed to be from the gas. As he inhaled the chemicals, it was a disgusting smell, he shook his head to somehow clear it out of his head. He suddenly felt so... floaty.

"I understand this doesn't smell so much like mother's home-baked cookies, but it's something we'll have to work through," Prophet said sadly. He sounded as though he actually cared about them.

The sound of Prophet's voice became more and more endearing and Clint felt somehow protected by it, though his brain -just a small portion of it- was alarmed by the turn of events.

Prophet turned away from Imelda, going over to Clint and crouching at his kneeling form. Clint had to fight the urge to inch closer to him and he took deep breaths to calm himself as he usually did, but it was only bringing the chemicals deeper into his brain.

"Now, I know the madam is a God-fearing woman, but what about you? I'm assuming not."

Clint snorted, the words of religion clearing a path in his head just a bit and he had an epiphany- the 'spiritual killers'. That's who these people were. Then he giggled uncontrollably and sighed when he finally composed himself, staring down at the floor blearily while Prophet watched him.

"I know a god," Clint wheezed. "I fuck him every night too."

He chanced a glance up at his captor and saw his eyes widen at the blasphemy from behind his mask. Oh Clint loved it. He made his face go slack and he leaned up to talk confidentially to Prophet, but he spoke in a normal volume.

"You wouldn't believe how tight he is," he grumbled low in his throat and then he giggled again. "Fucking heaven in that body!"

Prophet balked at the vulgarities and looked behind him where Loki would be behind the pillar.

The god hummed with intrigue:

"Hawkeye, if I was capable of being embarrassed my face would burn like the fires of hell."

Prophet seemed to collect himself and he stood, looking down on Clint with disappointment in his eyes.

"I see- a heathen. But you know, God accepts all if they only ask for forgiveness-"

Imelda suddenly moaned, her body hanging limp and head down. Prophet left Clint and touched his fingers to the woman's chin, gently lifting her head to see her heavy-lidded eyes.

"Darling," he cooed. "Are you ready to meet our Lord?"

Imelda's eyes fluttered as she came to attention and she hummed happily.

"I get to see Him?" she asked slowly, the drugs in the air making her calm and gullible. Turning a middle-aged woman into a love-seeking teenager. Prophet cheered happily behind his mask,

"Of course! But my dear we must first lend an ear to your friends- they have not yet accepted Him in their hearts. Will you help me?"

Imelda gave him a lopsided grin and agreed, and then Prophet signaled to his men, untying her from her chains. He led her by the hand to Clint, but they didn't kneel with him.

When Clint saw their feet in his circle of vision he snapped his eyes shut and held his breath again. The chemicals were already in his system, he knew that, but he hoped to steel himself against anything they had to say. He wouldn't be swayed by Prophet's bullshit and his stinky ass chemicals. But it took everything he had not to look up into Prophet and Imelda's eyes and ask them to help him. He struggled to keep his breathing under control and he jumped in his skin when the click of a magazine being fitted into a gun was heard. He looked up at them finally, watching Prophet hand the firearm to Imelda and start whispering in her ear through his mask. She looked absolutely pleased at his voice. Her hands moved while he talked to her, snapping the chamber back to load the first round.

On the other side of the pillars, Loki moaned and began to chuckle.

"I hope it's you holding that gun," he swooned.

The sound of Loki's voice brought him out of his daze some, trying to focus his eyes between the two standing in front of him as though he could see Loki through the pillar. The god suddenly laughed and said,

"I don't think these chemicals are working in the way you hoped, Prophet- I am incredibly aroused."

Prophet either didn't hear him or he just wasn't going to entertain the notion, but Clint would. It was something to focus on.

"You're hard? Right now?"

"Oh yes."

Clint snickered and shifted in his chains, feeling a sharp ache in his shoulders.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he rasped and Prophet suddenly snatched his head up by the hair and forced him to look at them.

"Now boys, silence in the house of the Lord," he chastised and Clint whined, delirious and amused.

"But he was going to describe what he wanted me to do to him!"

"Yes, let me tell my 'sheep' how to worship me," Loki added.

Prophet still held onto Clint's hair and he looked back in Loki's direction, saying gruffly-

"You are no god."

Loki clicked his tongue. "We all know that's not the truth, don't we?"

"Yeah," Clint moaned, "Tell us the truth, Sir."

He wasn't sure if he should be surprised or not by the swell of blood in his cock, but the sensation was gone as quickly as it had appeared, and he thought Loki just had that random effect on him. The drugs were probably not helping.

Prophet talked over Loki, who began describing in detail a scene of him and Clint in bed, and he gave Imelda an exasperated look.

"Dear, these boys might take more convincing than I thought- it will take a while , so how about you go first to the Lord and then they'll meet you there later. You can show them around."

The Irishwoman smiled sadly at Prophet but she agreed and asked him to show her how. He touched the gun in her hand and she looked down at it like she'd never seen it before.

"I already gave you the tool," Prophet whispered. "Use it."

The implication of what he'd said didn't occur to Imelda in her drugged state, completely under the crazed man's suggestion and whim, though Clint's head snapped up and his eyes were wide. She looked at the gun closely, almost in reverence. But Clint couldn't think of anything to say suddenly. He knew she probably shouldn't do what Prophet wanted her to, but everything was still so hazy in his head- he couldn't think of a reason not to.

Imelda raised the weapon to the side of her head, just touching the muzzle to her skull and Clint's heart thrummed in his chest and he couldn't tell whether it was in panic or morbid anticipation. But his thought was 'what about the jazz?'. She didn't look at anyone, not even Prophet, who had stepped away from her side. She merely gazed ahead at nothing, her eyes open in a mixture of worry and want, and Clint knew she was still conscious in her own head and knew the problem that her action would cause. She would be dead.

With a _wham!_ the door beside Clint flew open, slamming against the wall, and one of Prophet's men tripped inside, running in and up to the canister, turning off the valve with shrill squeals of the wheel.

"Prophet, they're coming! Cops are coming!" He gasped out and started to wheel the dolly away quickly, leaving Prophet dumbfounded.

"What?!"

The other men waited for no word, pulling off their gas masks and scattering, running for their gear and supplies. Two helped the man with the dolly, hurrying him down the stairwell and out of sight. While his men scurried around the room, Prophet cursed and flapped his hands against his thighs, groaning and exasperated. He stood in the middle of the trio- one standing, lost with a gun to shoot herself in the head, and the others chained up to the supports; one hard and one silly. Prophet snatched the weapon out of Imelda's loose grip, making her look at him sadly as though she were a child whose toy had been taken away. Tapping the gun against his leg he sighed again in his mask and he bent over Clint as the last man came in and out with the last of their stuff, calling out to his leader.

"Prophet, they're coming!"

Clint watched Prophet's eyes squint at him behind the mask and he shook the gun in Clint's face.

"This is your fault- I know."

He began to walk away towards the door out.

"We'll continue this another time, dear! Next time, gentlemen, I hope you'll be in a more receptive frame of mind."

And then he slammed the door behind him and they listened to the tapping of his shoes down the concrete steps. Left alone in silence, Clint sputtered in laughter and Loki soon began to chuckle with him.

"Oh-ho-ho my god," Clint wheezed. "Who's coming?"

"You, when we get out of this," Loki mused and it made Clint hum. Imelda still stood, confused until CLint told her to sit down on the floor with them. The chemicals were dissipating from the room but they all still felt the effects of it in their systems and probably would for a few more hours at least. When the choppy sound of a helicopter neared, Clint looked up at the ceiling, listening to it float over the building, and then the door burst open again, people in black with guns crowding the opening. They shuffled into the room, two of the men aiming their weapons at Clint and Imelda, one finding Loki and doing the same while the others checked out the room and yelled the all clear.

Boots echoed in the stairwell and Natasha appeared at the door in her tight suit and her guns holstered. She wanted to smile at Clint, he could tell, but she held it in and sighed at him.

"Really?"

She turned and yelled down the stairs for a set of bolt cutters and then came into the room, helping Imelda up and asking if she was okay. Imelda didn't really have an answer for her. Clint however, couldn't shut up. He started snickering.

"Phht! Loki, the Spider's here to save the day!"

Loki started chuckling while another SHIELD grunt ran up the stairs with a bolt cutter in hand.

"That has nothing to do with 'winging it'," Loki pointed out.

"Who knew?!" Clint said hysterically as his chains were cut open. His arms fell to his sides and he groaned harshly, shoulders aching. He shakily staggered to his feet and Natasha was at his side to help him as Imelda was led away by some of the armed agents. He stumbled around the pillar, still absently chuckling about nothing when he saw Loki getting his own chains cut down. He'd been tied with his arms back around the pillar like Clint had, but also his legs had been bound the same way, forcing his knees open and his back straight against the pole. Loki let his arms drop and he slumped away from the pillar while Clint fell to his knees beside him, laughing but trying to hold it in. Natasha was attempting to get him up, telling the men they had to get going when Clint suddenly gasped, grappling at Loki's shoulders and scrabbling behind him to climb onto his back. Loki was on all fours, gasping with laughter and letting the archer do as he pleased while Natasha stood by and rolled her eyes.

"Loki! Loki, Loki-" Clint stammered, shimmying onto the gods back and wrapping his arms around his neck. "Nat says- hehehe- Nat says we gotta go. Let's mush!"

Loki reeled in his laughing with a shake of his head, blearily standing up, hunched and holding Clint's legs above his hips. Humming his laughing behind his lips, Loki staggered through the room and down the stairs with the archer on his back and Natasha following behind them dutifully.

Outside, a whole crew of SHIELD agents swarmed around the blocked off perimeter of the street and sidewalk and they all stared when the god stepped out of the building, choking on his howls. Natasha stepped out ahead of the piggy-backing pair and led them to a black van, wrenching open the back doors and motioning them inside. Clint complained about having his ride end so soon but Loki let him down and Natasha pushed him into the van, letting Loki get in himself. She slammed the doors behind them and walked around to the cab, getting into the drivers seat and telling Imelda in the passenger seat that everything would be okay. When Clint hooted through the small hatch that separated the cab from the back of the van that he wanted to be taken to Burger King, Natasha slammed the hatch shut in his face.

With the long bed of the van darkened, Clint's laughs died down and he slumped onto the bench at Loki's side, leaning into him and slapping his hand on his thigh. Loki wasted no time pulling Clint's hand up to cup his bulge, pressing over his fingers. Clint hummed with interest though he was very tired in the darkness, and he massaged the god through his pants. He pressed his face into Loki's neck and breathed in him and mumbled.

"Mmmmwhaddyawant? 'Cause I migh'not b'able to finish you off."

Loki sighed breathlessly and tipped his head back to rest on the vibrating walls of the van.

"Just keep going."

"I'd blow you if you let me."

"You would fall asleep on my cock and more than likely choke yourself on it."

His weariness floated away from him for a moment as he pictured himself as Loki described and he thought of a baby sucking on its thumb as it slept. The image was slightly morbid but he began to chuckle anyway, his whole body shaking but when Loki grabbed his retreating hand to fit it over his crotch again, Clint tried to be serious and focused on making the god feel good.

By the time they'd reached headquarters Loki still hadn't gotten off, but he'd enjoyed the playtime. Natasha flung the doors open and the two climbed out, ready to be examined every which way for the chemicals they'd inhaled; asked over and over about what they'd seen and heard until they sat in the meeting room alone, waiting.

Clint swiveled his chair back and forth, head back and mouth hanging open as he stared up at the ceiling, counting the tiny perforations on the tiles. Loki had one arm on the round table, resting his head in his hand and he sighed irritably as he rubbed his other hand over his clothed cock.

"Still hard?"

"Yes," the god grumbled.

"I'd say I'd fuck the shit outta you when we get home, but that ain't gonna happen- I'm high as fuck... Hungry."

The door behind them swished open and neither turned to see who came in, as usual. It was always the same people anyway.

"Well, agents," Fury said as he moved to the opposite side of the table. "I trust you're feeling better."

Clint didn't move his gaze from the ceiling tiles.

"Need a food machine in here," he said.

"Food machine?"

"Hungry."

Fury looked neither amused nor irritated, he just nodded once and hummed. Natasha took her seat beside Clint and folded her hands on the table.

"The doctors said the residual effects are similar to cannabis- it'll be a few hours until his head stops swimming," she informed the Director.

"Weed don't give you blue balls," Clint blurted.

Fury closed his one eye and sighed silently while Natasha pursed her lips and looked over at Loki, who still faced down the tabletop with one arm moving slightly under it.

"The drugs seem to affect Loki differently, maybe because he's not human. He's- uh..." she paused to think of a polite way to state the god's predicament, but Clint beat her to it. With no politeness.

"He's hard as a rock."

"Please stop talking," Loki said, squeezing himself hard in hopes it would defer some of the pain of his arousal. It wasn't working.

"But maybe you'll come from the sound of my voice," Clint argued. "Should I talk dirty?"

Fury shot out of his seat and stepped quickly to the door.

"I don't want to hear any of this shit: debrief another day!"

And he left the room.

Natasha shook her head while Clint started cracking up, and she took them out of the meeting area, down to her car and she took them home. Clint decided to have the back seat, sprawling out and watching the buildings go by upside down, and Loki sat in the front beside Natasha, scratching his nails over his pants and trying as hard as he could not to touch himself in front of her.

When they reached Clint's apartment, she didn't help the pair upstairs, letting Loki drag Clint out of the backseat and haul him into the building. Loki pulled the archer into the bedroom and let him fall onto the bed while he shed his clothes. Clint breathed deeply, pleased to be home and he stared at the ceiling some more, stating again that he was hungry, but the god wasn't listening. He felt his jeans being pulled down his hips and his soft cock exposed and Clint felt a little ashamed of himself. He wished he could get it up right now so he could give Loki what he wanted, but there was no way it was going to happen.

He wasn't sure if he'd said it aloud or not but it didn't matter, Loki was suddenly crawling over him, pushing the archers shirt up his torso and laying down hard on top of him. Clint startled when something wet and firm pushed between his thighs, just under his balls and he was quite sad to find that his jeans were preventing him from spreading his legs to get away from that wet. Clint wiggled under Loki's weight, lifting a knee to move the sensation away but Loki growled at him and shoved his leg back down, keeping that hard, wet thing firmly squished between his legs. When the movement began, sliding in and out from his thighs, Loki's body surging up against his, Clint realized the thing was Loki's lubed cock and he thought that he'd never think to do that before.

"This is how you have sex with someone without having sex with them," he said hazily, staring up at the ceiling still and letting the god thrust himself through the squeeze of his legs.

Loki didn't answer Clint's half-thought up ideas and just panted into the archers neck, resigned to the fact that Clint would not be participating in any way except to let the god use his body until he was done.


	17. Bennie and the Jets

Clint bought a small table for the dining area of the apartment, mostly to sit at with Loki when they had to do paperwork for SHIELD and didn't want to spend their whole day at headquarters. They sat there this morning, the archer in his boxers and wife-beater and drinking a coke; Loki sat across from him with a bowl of oatmeal, already dressed for the day. Clint sniffed at the breakfast with a smile before looking back down at the sheaf of papers- banana flavored oatmeal. Loki loved it.

"What's on the agenda today?" Loki asked between mouthfuls.

Clint hummed and searched through the papers, but still went back to the first one and grabbed a pen, ticking off boxes and signing at the bottom, flipping to the next sheet.

"Stark's gonna transfer the money," he replied, leading his pen down the page. "But we have to see his CEO and get it all set up with her first so we don't set off any red flags."

"The account is open then?"

"No-" Clint flipped another page and scribbled an address on a line. "We have to have a certain amount of cash to open an account with them- that's why Stark's woman is going to set it all up."

Loki hummed and finished his oatmeal, getting up to rinse his bowl in the sink. He looked out the open window, watching nothing in Imelda's darkened kitchen. She wasn't awake yet.

"Did we decide whether or not the house will be in our name?"

"It would be in my name," Clint corrected. "But it's going to stay in Tony's possession- it'll set off suspicions and we'll get our own place eventually anyway."

The god sat at the table again, this time with a glass of water in hand.

"Why in your name?"

"Because you don't have one yet."

Loki was confused and Clint chuckled at his expression as he went on signing his papers.

"I don't understand. I don't... have a name?"

"Well, legally- on paper- you don't even exist." Clint set his pen down and got up, grabbing his wallet off the counter and flipping it open, pulling a plastic card out and passing it to the god.

"On Earth, you need physical documentation that identifies who you are and proves you're real and who you belong to and all that."

"Belong to?"

Clint ignored the question with a dismissive wave of his hand and continued. "That's my driver's license- tells you my name, where I live, when I was born. And then there are passports that are like traveling ownership papers. They show what country you're from and other important crap. It's considered proof of who you are. And you don't have any of those. You need them to travel."

Loki pursed his lips. "How would I go about getting these things?"

"Don't worry about it- I'm getting it taken care of."

Loki slouched in his chair and sighed. "These transactions and preparations have no part for me to play. It feels strange."

"Yeah, can you imagine trying to do all this shit on your own?" Clint flipped his signed papers right side up and tossed the pen on the stack, groaning and rubbing his eyes.

"Yes, well that is why I had the Tesseract. If I didn't have you I'd surely miss it."

Clint watched the god blankly, thinking about the lab in Nevada where he kept watch over the cube and the scientists bustling around it. He hadn't thought shit about it then, just doing his job.

He got up and walked by Loki to get dressed, flipping the edge of the gods hair as he went. He didn't say that he missed the Tesseract too- it would be too much to explain, and he wasn't sure he understood it himself. He dressed and the two headed out with the stack of papers in hand.

* * *

The secretary in the Stark Industries building had her gum tucked between her cheek and her teeth, creating a small bulge under her lip as she composed her face to look pleasant and professional when Clint and Loki walked in the door. She asked what help she could be to the men.

"We're here to see Potts." Clint informed her and his flippant tone set the girls brow down a twitch.

"The CEO is a very busy woman- she only entertains by appointment."

"Yeah, we're in there. Look under 'Barton'."

The secretary dug under her desk for a black book and flipped through the pages for the day. It occurred to Clint that she should've had the appointment book at the ready if there were so many. Maybe she was new.

She shook her head and hummed. "No, I have no Bartons for today. Tomorrow though. Trowa Barton?"

Clint grunted. "No that ain't me..." He looked askance at Loki, who shrugged. "He wouldn't put it under your name," he mused and pursed his lips, thinking that he should've made the appointment himself rather than letting Tony do it. When he repeated the phone call to the billionaire in his head, he was suddenly unamused and leveled the secretary a blank stare.

"Birdbrain."

She didn't even have the decency to look into the names again before nodding gravely.

"Fucking Stark."

The girl got up and led the two away into the depths of the company building. She took them to the top floors and down long halls until she stopped at a door and knocked, waiting patiently for a response to enter. She opened the door enough to fit her head and shoulders in.

"Miss Potts, your nine o'clock appointment is here."

"Great," came the CEO's soft voice. "Send him in."

And the secretary opened the door fully and stepped aside to allow Clint and Loki in.

Clint went to shake the CEOs outstretched hand as she came out from behind her desk, all bright smiles in her well tailored dress suit, but her smile faltered and fell when Loki came in behind him. She wavered in place, hand frozen in its welcome and she looked between the god and the archer warily. For a moment Clint was confused; it had been so long since someone recognized the god that Clint figured maybe no one in the general public actually knew what Loki looked like.

"What is he-" she breathed and Clint had to intervene.

"Wait: it's not what you think."

She looked frightened but trying to hide it, her pale green eyes widening and flitting between the two.

"It's different now- he's different now."

She had her eyes locked on Loki's then and Clint was glad he was keeping his mouth shut. He could only make the situation worse and he was terribly good at it. Clint stepped into her view, blocking the god from sight and it worked to get her out of her daze.

"Miss Potts. Tony knows about him. He wouldn't have made this appointment for us if he wasn't okay with it."

"Us," she said plainly.

"Yeah."

The CEO looked deep into Clint's grey eyes with worry, but she puffed once through her nose and shook her head slightly.

"You're right," she said softly and swiped her hands on her suit jacket to straighten it. "You're right, you're right." She cleared her throat and held out her hand again, all business once more. "Pepper Potts," she said.

Clint shook her hand and introduced himself, and vaguely introduced Loki to her with a 'you already know him'. Pepper motioned for them to sit in the chairs at the front of her desk, plush and comfortable, while she took her own seat.

"So you're Hawkeye," she said almost dreamily.

"Yes, ma'am."

She smiled loftily at him. "Tony talks about you all a lot- the Avengers. He smiles a lot when he talks about you too. I think he's starting to think of you all as family. He needs one."

"We like him too," Clint responded simply.

Pepper hummed serenely and then moved right into business. She pulled a folder out from behind her desk and opened it, grabbing a thick, fancy pen. There was an opal gem at the top. Just then Clint remembered the stack of papers he'd had to sign that morning- he'd given them to Loki to hold during the ride over. He tapped the gods elbow and signaled him to hand over the papers just as Pepper began to ask for them. She kept her eyes locked with Loki's as he handed the stack directly to her. She was hesitant. But she took the papers and sifted through them quickly to make sure everything was in order. She compared the, to her own few forms in her folder.

"So the account will be under the names... Kyle and Elijah Kelly? Who's who?"

"I'm Kyle," Clint confirmed.

She tightened her eyes and searched through more of the stack and then she glanced up at him in surprise. "You're married?"

Even Loki snapped to attention, the information being news to him as well. Clint wasn't fazed by their surprise.

"On paper we are."

"Huh. And his passport, birth certificate? Yours- well, Kyle's?"

"Got mine already. His'll be ready by the time UBS asks for them. Pepper nodded slowly, realizing that this discussion involved documents being forged. Talking about people who didn't really exist. Only on paper. She took a breath and delved back into the paperwork again, outlining the agreement of a twice yearly transfer plan for the next few years from Stark Industries to the account of Kyle Kelly. Then another quick sheet about payments in the home that would be lent to them by Tony Stark himself, not through S.I. It was a private agreement with only physical paper and word of mouth to officialize it. The CEO signed a few of the papers herself, used a stamp and seal and then she gently set her pen down beside the folder, looking up at Clint with concern on her face.

"May I ask you a personal question?" she inquired hesitantly, folding her hands on the desk.

Clint looked over at Loki, who seemed just as professional and stone-faced as Pepper had, and the god lifted his chin minutely. He did it to look down his nose and feel like he was above others. But it also meant he was wary.

"You may," the god agreed, and Pepper glanced between them before speaking again.

"What- uh... Why are you doing this?"

"This is your personal question?"

Clint tapped the gods knee with the back of his hand, keeping Loki's attitude in check. "She's trying to ask nicely about us," he explained quietly.

"I know she is."

"Then don't be a dick about it- she's doing us a huge favor. This wouldn't be happening if it wasn't for her and Stark.

Pepper's eyes darted back and forth between Clint and Loki, feeling like she was witnessing a lovers spat even though this was far from a fight. She had no idea about their fights.

Loki sighed, giving in to Clint's point and calming himself, looking up at the lady pointedly.

"We are in a relationship, madam."

"Uh... huh."

"We kiss, we sleep together, we fuck-"

Clint smacked his knee again, harder this time. "She gets it," he rasped as Pepper pursed her lips uncomfortably.

"She asked a personal question. I was merely giving personal answers."

Pepper seemed concerned for them, furrowing her brows with a slight frown on her lips. "I thought-" she tried and stopped to think. "Well, I guess you have your reasons."

Clint could see she was trying hard to be diplomatic about them, but she still wanted to know. He thought that Tony was surprisingly attached to Phil Coulson and maybe Pepper was too. It was the most likely reason she was afraid or upset by Loki. He knew that Phil was the agent who personally established and maintained contact with Tony. To get to Stark he would have had to go through Pepper.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but she closed it a second later and shook her head. "Well, the account will be opened soon- I'll send off the paperwork tonight. When your identifications come in you can bring them to me or contact the UBS yourself, whichever you prefer. But the villa is ready whenever you get there."

"Great!" Clint cheered with a smile. It worked to disarm the lady of her caution and she suddenly smiled widely at him. Business is done and business went well.

"We'll get out of your hair then," he said as he lifted himself out of his chair. Loki did not rise. Pepper got up as well and shook Clint's hand once more over her desk as he thanked her for her help. She told him to think nothing of it. When Clint turned away, Loki took his cue to stand, drawing Pepper's gaze, and he tilted his head to her and followed the archer out of the office.


	18. Here I Dreamt I was an Architect

Chapter 18 (Here I Dreamt I Was an Architect)

Clint half-listened to Fury drone on in the meeting room, resting his chin in his hand and staring at the man's eyepatch. This was a part debrief, part mission-exacerbated meeting; all the Avengers minus Thor were there. Tony had greeted Clint before the meet began, all big smiles and a 'hey Birdbrain'. Clint responded with a flip of his middle finger, telling the billionaire that Pepper's secretary probably thought he was a lunatic and almost didn't let them in. Tony just chortled at him and gave Loki a smack on the back, looking a little unsure of himself right afterwards, but he moved on, greeting the god as well with a new nickname: Balto.

"On a Disney binge, Stark?"

Tony's mouth fell open in offense. "Balto is Spielberg, not freaking Disney- get your facts straight!"

"Looks like a Disney cartoon to me," Clint said flippantly and shrugged.

"Your mother's ass looks like a Disney cartoon."

"Clint almost shot out of his chair, about to get in Tony's face rather violently just as Natasha stepped between them and took her seat next to the archer.

"Have we devolved into 'your momma' insults so early in the day?"

Her presence soothed Clint a little, enough to sit down and not look at Ironman, but he still grumbled about it. "Don't talk about my mom, Stark."

Tony had taken his chair on the other side of Natasha, relaxed and happy. "I think I'm entitled to talk about whatever I want with how you owe me after that big favor I did for you."

"You're such a dick."

"Yeah, people tend to say that."

Clint felt a boot touch his under the table and he looked over at Loki who silently made a face that said exactly what the archer was feeling, and Clint returned with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

Steve and Bruce wandered in together and Tony stood to greet the scientist personally, a smirk on his face that Bruce tried not to smile at. He said hello to Captain America with a nickname rolling off his tongue. Steve responded gruffly but politely and sat beside Loki whom he greeted with a small smile. And Loki responded in kind, but without a smile, more a smirk.

It baffled Clint how comfortable Steve became with the god, actually happy to see him, whereas the other Avengers were nice but kept their distance. Except for Tony, and it seemed like he couldn't help himself but was extremely confused about it. It was weird for Clint when he would get a random text from Steve, asking how Loki was adjusting to Earth living. Clint now just handed the phone over to the god when he got those messages, letting the god and superhuman talk together.

When Fury entered, the tails of his leather coat flying out behind him, they all went silent. Clint was already feeling the Director's eye on him and Loki and it made him want to sink into his chair. Sure enough when he got to the head of the table he was giving Clint a look.

"Feeling better, Agent Barton?"

Clint cleared his throat and sat up in his seat, deciding he wasn't going to let Fury make him feel like this was all his fault.

"I am, sir. Loki is too," he added cheerfully. "Though there are absolutely no tissues, toilet paper, or paper towels left in my house. I even ended up having to hide my socks."

Fury closed his eye like it would prevent the images forming in his head of Loki jerking off, not knowing the god despised masturbating. Loki viciously whacked the archer on the back of his head, a scowl on his lips and Fury even thanked him for the punishment Loki meted out. Clint took the beating with a smile and ignored Natasha's unamused glance. The other Avengers looked confused and disgusted but curious but they didn't ask.

"The situation has escalated, Avengers," Fury said as though the previous moments didn't just happen. "Agent Barton and Loki have come into personal contact with this group of vigilantes that kill for a higher power."

"Did you capture them?" Steve asked, surprised.

"No," Fury denied with a huff. "The captured were Loki and Agent Barton themselves."

Steve looked at Loki with concern. "You were captured?"

"Abducted," Clint clarified for the sake of their dignity.

Tony of course had to put in his two cents, smiling hard. "Kidnapped. How does that happen, by the way- with you being a super spy and you a-" Tony snorted, "Well, a not-god?"

"Dude, my neighbor was getting kidnapped by these assholes. If we hadn't been there, she'd be dead."

Clint didn't feel the need to add that if it actually weren't for Natasha keeping a private watch on his place then they all would have died. He had yet to tell Loki that he let the Widow install cameras in his apartment for their safety, but he thought Loki might figure it out on his own.

Fury continued on as though the commentary from the others in the room were those of children and he ignored them. Most of them acted like children anyway. "There won't be any undercover missions concerning this group- they'll be too wary of an outsider now that we've stepped in on their rituals. But we know what they look like, the leader in particular, and I need a sketch drawn up of that guys mug. We'll put it in the database and run matches and it'll keep the other agents informed." Fury paced two or three steps as he rambled on.

Steve would more than likely volunteer to make the sketch of Prophet, taking details from both Clint and Loki's assessment.

"Some other agents have stumbled on leads and this team- Agent Barton and Loki in particular, will conduct investigations, and stakeouts if need be. From now on: all reconnaissance all the time. If you hear even a flea's fart in the right direction to these guys, we all need to know about it. Start in vigorous religious sects, odd or large quantities of chemical gas movements. Look into patterns on the victims."

Tony stopped the Director with a raised hand to which Fury glowered.

"Why do I feel like a beat cop asking the neighbors if they saw a suspicious turd on the sidewalk? Shouldn't your younger agents have already started working out patterns?"

"You are part of this team, aren't you?" Fury accused rather than asked.

"I'm not teamed up with SHIELD- I'm teamed with the Avengers." Tony got out of his seat without fuss, walking away like he had adjourned the meeting himself. "You call me when you got it figured out and you need me to take him down."

Tony left the room, leaving an awkward silence behind him. Bruce cleared his throat gently and leaned back in his chair.

"I feel slightly the same way," he mumbled apologetically. "I'm a physicist, not a detective. I'll stay, but you can't expect much from me on this stuff."

Fury nodded in agreement with him, understanding Bruce's position. He cut the meeting off there, telling Clint and Loki to get to work before striding out into the main of the headquarters. After another moment of silence Natasha sighed and got up, setting her hand on her hip and nodding at the doctor.

"Wanna see the blood-work from Clint's foray into enemy hands?"

Bruce agreed readily, following her out the door. He would spend the better part of the morning in SHIELD's labs, analyzing the chemical surplus of Clint's blood and explaining it to Natasha, who sat nearby, looking and listening intently but never touching.

Clint and Loki were wrangled by Steve, riding their respective motorcycles to Stark Tower to get the sketch done. Steve had complimented Clint on the paint job of his bike, liking the nature feel of it. If he had any wonders about the two animals painted onto it, he didn't ask. He knew what the bird was, but the wolf- he just didn't ask. Clint credits Loki on the work in any case, and Steve was surprised and impressed, and he informed the god that he was an artist as well. Though he didn't say it with titles. 'I draw sometimes' is what he said.

Clint felt like he was being invited over for dinner by someone who was a friend, but an odd one. One he wasn't too sure of. Steve seemed like the kind of guy who could have a real dark side to him if he was allowed to explore it. Clint expected that was because of how good the guy was. Not morally, no- they'd all done terrible things, but the boy-next-door who treated his girl like a queen. Humble. Kind. Clint was hoping to find out more about the Captain by being in his apartment that Tony had made space for in his tower. When the three arrived on Steve's floor, the Captain was instantly at home, walking through the living room at ease, asking if his guests wanted anything to drink. He apologized from his kitchen that he didn't have a full bar like Tony did, but Clint and Loki weren't going to drink anyway.

While Steve rustled about in the kitchen, Loki prowled the living room strewn with drawings, paper and sketchbooks full of them, boxes of charcoal and a coffee mug stuffed with pencils. Clint wasn't as interested as Loki, preferring to follow Steve and take the bottled sodas out of his hands and bring them to the living room. Steve seemed to take no mind of the god pawing through his mess of papers while he picked out a pencil and found a clean sheet in a sketchbook. Loki pulled out papers from the center of the piles, looking them over with calm, appreciative eyes and then letting them slide out of his fingers to flutter around him onto the floor as he picked out another. The Captain settled into the navy blue couch, some brand new piece of furniture, expensive probably, that had smudges of black and white all over the arms and cushions. Charcoal and chalk.

"So what's this guys name?" Steve started with, pencil at the ready.

"Prophet," Clint sighed and twisted off the cap to his bottle.

Steve scribbled the name at the top of the paper with a frown. "Killing in the name of God..." he huffed and started sketching out a basic head shape.

"Are you a religious man, Captain Rogers?" Loki asked, the collection of papers around his slowly growing.

Steve shrugged, scribbling away. "I don't go to church. I was raised Protestant, but... I don't know."

Loki hummed and continued to sift through the art.

"I don't believe you're a god," Steve said easily, forcing his tone to not be aggressive.

"That's because I'm not, no matter what I might say. I wish I were. Compared to you civilization some years ago we were worshipped as such, but what god do you know gets his power taken from him?"

Steve's scratching pencil stopped and he looked seriously at Loki. "That's very big of you to admit." He sounded almost proud of the god.

"Thank you," Loki said quietly, making a point to not look up at the artist. A particular drawing caught his eye and he held it up to see closer. He had an inkling to its nature, but he had to be sure. He touched his finger to the hawk depicted on it, flying high above the other animal figures gathered together.

"Are these the Avengers?"

Steve glanced over from his ongoing sketch Clint was describing for Prophet's mug shot. "Yeah," he sighed, almost uncomfortably. "Is it too juvenile? I read about this thing called 'anthro'- anthropomorphizing animals with human qualities. I didn't do the human qualities with that one, but it's just us as animals. Spirit animals I guess, I don't know."

"No, not juvenile at all-" Loki denied to assuage his fears. "We are similar in Asgard: choosing an animal to depict ourselves or an animalistic trait. Thor chose wings."

"And you picked horns?"

"Well, it's intimidating, isn't it? I found that I had to build my appearance into something devilish and fear-inspiring to ward off the..." Loki huffed and looked away, out the windows that showcased the city with the sun glinting off the multitude of windows blindingly. Clint listed off features to Steve quietly in the background and the artist drew them out while he lent Loki his ear. The god seemed to be lost in his memories for a moment before pulling himself out and looking at the drawings again.

"Magic of my kind is looked upon as backhanded and cowardly. They prefer physical, hand-to-hand confrontation. The animal I would choose for myself cannot be depicted on a helm in a frightful fashion so I settled for horns. I think they worked well here on Earth."

Steve nodded in understanding and agreement at the same time. "What animal would you have been?"

"The wolf."

Steve nodded again, still sketching, but in his mind he suddenly knew why there was a wolf on Clint's motorcycle. Over the top of his sketchbook he watched Loki turn to look at Clint, who met his gaze and smiled. Loki smiled back, small and demure; strange to see on his lips, before turning back to the drawings. Tony had taught him that in this day and age, you get more answers if you just ask them bluntly.

"Are you two... dating?"

The question made the two freeze, knowing they'd been found out if Steve could pick up on it. Clint and Steve locked eyes, one simply curious and the other stone-faced as to not give anything away.

"I guess I can understand," Steve shrugged, turning back down to his drawing. "You've been living together for a while now- it's hard not to become comfortable with someone when they're constantly nearby."

"Our relationship doesn't disturb you?" Loki asked gently, trying not to sound concerned about the situation. "One of your heroes sharing his bed with the enemy?"

"I said I understand, that doesn't mean I have to like it. But," Steve set his pencil on his lap and looked above Clint's head as he thought, "It's getting hard for me to see you as the enemy anymore. You're not a threat, and you're even helping us catch another bad guy. I like you."

Clint's eyebrows flew up. "The gay thing isn't tripping you out? That's what i thought you were going to have trouble with."

"I knew someone in grade school that all us boys thought was gay. He got beat up a lot, but we were never positive he was. I guess I don't really know what to think of it. It doesn't really have anything to do with me. I know what the bible says about it, but like I said- I don't go to church." With that, Steve shrugged again, picked up his pencil, and continued to draw.

Loki took his explanation as is and moved on, while Clint squinted at the Captain, digesting the information. Loki sighed knowingly and pointedly looked at Steve. "Clint is concerned that you will tell the other, or SHIELD. We would rather anyone else not know."

Steve smiled at the god. "There's nothing to tell."

Loki smiled back and then looked down at more sketches. "I knew I liked you."

Above them, Jarvis' voice sounded, jolting them all as they forgot the AI was always there.

"Forgive my interruption, sirs, but Agent Sitwell is on his way up."

"What- why?" Clint sat up on the couch with his eyebrows furrowed irritably.

"I'm sure I don't know, sir."

Clint grunted and slouched back into the couch, arms folded over his chest. The elevator arrived and the doors whooshed open, and the agent stepped out in his pressed suit and glasses.

"What do you want, Sitwell?" Clint growled.

The agent smiled and walked around the back of the couch to see Clint's angry face. "Good morning, Agent Barton, Captain Rogers." He looked over at Loki across the coffee table and the god didn't deign offer the bald man a glance or a hello. He had no reason to. Steve smiled and nodded at Sitwell, while Clint glowered at him.

"Fury sent me to ask a few questions about the time spent with Prophet and his men," Sitwell explained with a half-smile and a slight cock of his head.

Clint squinted at his fellow agent, but theatrically patted the cushions next to him. "Sure, sonny! Pop a squat and let me tell you all about it."

Sitwell seemed to take o offense with Clint's sarcasm and tilted his head in thanks, smiling still and sitting next to Clint. His selective obliviousness pissed Clint off. The agent's questions were boringly generic ones. The basic questions asked on every mission, with a few thrown in about the vigilantes specifically just to make it seem like Sitwell was invested in the conversation. It was all very tedious for the archer; the very presence of Sitwell and his asinine questions tested Clint's patience. He managed not to smack the man across his head. When the agent finished his line of questioning and took his leave, calm and duty-well-done as he entered the elevator, Clint released a hard sigh of relief, rolling his eyes and dropping his crossed arms finally.

Steve had finished the sketch and he showed it to Loki first, who was impressed and agreed it was Prophet's spitting image. Then he turned the sketchbook towards Clint, who said it looked good, but he was grumpy and disinterested.

"You don't like Sitwell," Steve noted and he pulled the paper out of the book.

"He's a fucking creep," Clint spat. "Not only that- he's suspicious. Did you hear what he said about Fury telling him to ask us questions, Lo?"

The god twisted in his kneeling position to see the archer, never having heard the nickname from Clint's mouth before.

"He called Prophet by name," he said in answer to his own question. "You tell anyone that they call him that?"

"No."

Clint shook his head, knowing already Loki's answer would be the negative. "I haven't either- just Steve."

The god looked down at the coffee table in thought, eyes roving back and forth unseeing. When he glanced up at Clint he looked worried. "Perhaps Imelda mentioned it?"

Clint wasn't convinced, folding his arms again. "Maybe."


	19. Pervert Pop Song

Clint entered the warehouse with his hands raised beside his head, eyes up and counting the men lining the catwalks. They looked down on him with condescension- he was in their territory, they had no reason to be afraid. The sun beat down behind him, sending his shadow out long in front of him until the shadow of the roof blotted it out. There was no dust flying through the sunbeams at the opening of the warehouse doors- the place was used regularly and kept clean almost to a sanitized level in case law enforcement wandered through. Not that they'd make it out alive if they were so nonchalant and ignorant. Four men came out of the shadows beside the wide open gate, aiming semi-automatic rifles at him and fanning out around him. Clint knew these guys, some of them personally, some of them not, and some of them knew him, though whether they liked him or not- that Clint didn't know. This gang tolerated his presence, when all they really wanted to do was drop him in the bay with a pair of cement shoes. But that was Italian mafia style- these were Mexicans. Dropped in the desert littered with bullet holes would be more their speed. Clint was always glad there wasn't a desert anywhere near New York.

One of the guys surrounding Clint took a step closer and jerked his rifle at him. "Are you armed?" he asked in a heavy Spanish accent.

Clint kept his hands up. Safety first. "Of course."

"Well, drop 'em, _gringo_."

"I can't do that."

Another one of the armed men snorted and made the same motion with his gun. He spoke in Spanish to his friends in a teasing voice. " _Mira a este pinche wey!_ "

The first one stepped even closer, nudging Clint with the muzzle of the gun. "Maybe he don't hear so well," he hissed. "You know where you are, son?"

"Son?" Clint scoffed.

"I think this little white boy's lost," a third man laughed.

The archer scowled and tossed his hands down, making the riflemen jump a little. He eyed the men seriously and had them all staring at each other dumbfounded when he began to speak to them in perfect Spanish. " _I hear you just fine, **son**. I'm old enough to be your father, but maybe, since you're Mexican, I should say I'm old enough to be your grandfather. I know you like 'em young._ "

The guy with the weapon jabbing Clint in the ribs sputtered and shook his nervously. "The fuck did you just-"

" _So you better stop poking with that thing, junior, or I'll snatch it out of your hand and spank you with it._ "

The gunman's jaw dropped and when his gang mates all chuckled from the rafters at him, he turned red and moved to make another jab, but a silky voice of a woman stopped him short.

"Is that the sound of Agent Barton I hear?"

She appeared from behind a stack of crates nearly reaching the ceiling, wearing a long bead encrusted skirt, a shirt hanging off her shoulders with bead-weighted fringe. She had a few feathers dangling from the end of her long, braided black hair. She sauntered up to the men surrounding Clint and posed saucily, a welcoming smile on her lips. The guys looked at each other with confusion but they lowered their weapons when she waved them down. She came up to the archer and held out her hand, showing her sharpened nails painted blood red, gold at the pointy tips, and Clint took it and kissed her knuckles with a small smile of his own.

" _Mi Diosa_ ," he said warmly and let her hand drop.

She wanted to grin but held it back tightly in a smile that didn't show her teeth, and she tilted her head to Clint in greeting. "Agent Barton. You took a great risk coming here: some of my men are... not pleased with you."

"To say the least," Clint muttered and gazed up into the rafters at the men watching them.

"I haven't seen you in some time, I might have thought you dead. I heard you were chased down the streets at gunpoint recently."

The archer snorted and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, kinda been having some trouble at home."

"Mm," she hummed and straightened out her hanging shirt. "You taken up with Torinto's daughter again?"

"No, no." He took a big breath and laughed as he exhaled it, "I picked up a- Well, heh. I shacked up with a god."

The woman's face opened wide in astonishment, painted lips in a small circle and her eyes widening.

"He's kinda why I'm here," Clint tilted his head to her. "I need a favor."

She was still reeling from Clint's choice of words and she brought her hands up to her face and started to laugh, cupping her mouth and nose and bending over like it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. Clint let her laugh it out and smiled down at her until she quieted and came up for air. She took Clint's hand and started to lead him away from the open door of the warehouse, taking him further in while she giggled to herself.

Back around the corner of crates there was a door on the side of the warehouse with two of her men standing guard, they opened the doors for her and Clint as she neared and treated the men in the rafters to the sight of the woman's 'office' that many of them had never been in before. It was a greenhouse, all glass and steel pipelines, with plants and trees and flowers lining the walls, lining the floor; hanging from the ceiling like a jungle. The men closed the doors behind the two, leaving them alone in the paradise.

She strutted over the golden yellow stones set into grassy earth to a lounge and end table, pouring herself a glass of water from a crystal carafe. She sipped from the glass and turned to face the archer, who had wandered to the edges of the encroaching greenery, thumbing a leaf curiously. A scent wafted by on the steamy air and he raised his nose to it and sniffed. He looked at her with a smirk.

"You put that honeysuckle in here for me?"

She smiled and turned away to lie on the lounge.

"Rosario, didn't think you'd miss me so much."

She clicked her tongue sipped her water again. "Silence, you tease."

Clint chuckled and moved to sit comfortably on the flat stones of the ground, resting his elbow on his knee, chin in hand as he looked at her appreciatively. Rosario looked back at him longingly.

"So," she said softly. "A god."

"Yeah."

"I didn't think you liked men."

"I like everyone."

She nodded once. "So I see."

Clint took his head out of his hand and looked at her sadly. "Don't get upset, Rosa."

"I'm not," she sighed and set her glass down on the stones with a soft clinking sound. "We parted mutually, though I must say I'm a bit jealous. You are the only man I can say I've ever loved."

"I know," Clint whispered, feeling sorry about their long-past relationship.

"Your new god, since you've moved on from your goddess- he brings you trouble? That why you were hunted down?"

"Well, kinda, yeah. He used to be a terrorist-"

Rosario's eyebrows shot up in shock.

"Now he's like... on parole or... He's under my care and then we got into a relationship and yeah. Now we need help."

"And hence, this favor you ask of me." She shifted on the lounge, stretching one long leg out over the other, making her dress fall over the chair by the slit to reveal her browned skin. Clint's eyes roamed down her body, remembering how he used to slide his hands down those smooth legs, hold them hard by the thigh as he thrust into her on that very sofa. Rosario would scratch her nails down the velvet cushions and grab the wooden armrest above her head to steady herself as she moaned. His lips twitched in a half smile at the thought.

"I need a passport, citizenship papers, everything someone needs to get out of the country and into another. I know you're good at those."

"You could get these things from your very own workplace. I remember looking at your papers and thinking 'this _gringo_ doesn't look like a 'Stanley Brooks'."

Clint snorted at that and bobbed his head. "That was a pretty bad name. Blame it on my boss: I sure as hell wouldn't have picked it. I can't get this shit from SHIELD, though." He looked at her seriously and spoke low. "We're getting away from them. There's no way they'd give Loki citizenship, even if it was just an alias for a mission; they won't go for it."

The 'goddess' stared at Clint in awe, looking into his eyes and seeing happiness, and fear. She tried to smile, but found she couldn't do it without tearing up.

"You love this man," she said quietly, not asking but knowing.

"Yeah."

She pursed her lips. "I wish you had loved me the same way."

"I know," he muttered. "I'm sorry. I liked what we had; I just couldn't give you any more than that."

"I know, _mi amor_ ," she sighed and sat up, smiling gently at him. "Do you have a deadline? I need the specifications too."

"I got 'em here. I don't really have a deadline, but I'd like them as fast as you can get 'em. As long as you have time for it." Clint grunted as he got up from the stone floor and fished around in his pocket, bringing out a folded paper and handing it to her. She opened it and caught the photo that fell out of it, looking at Loki's face and smiling. She neglected to comment on him, and instead read through the information on the paper intently. She hummed and rose from her seat, straightening out her dress with a tinkling of the beads.

"It looks like it's all here. Will you come back for them or should I send them to you?"

"Just send them to my house, I'm sure you can find the address."

She stood in front of him and looked up into his eyes, reaching up to lay her hands on his chest. Clint put his hands over hers as she sighed and leaned in to rest her head on his collar.

"I wish we could have one more day together like we used to: I've changed. We could work completely this time."

Clint breathed heavily through his nose as he hugged her tight. "I know, but I've changed too. I'm not that guy you used to know. I'm- I'm Loki's now."

"He's your god."

"Right."

* * *

When Clint exited the warehouse, getting out of the compound through it's high walls with barbed wire lining the tops, he turned the corner to find Loki right where he left him with the bike. Loki was leaning against the tall cement walls in tight jeans and a leather jacket, sunglasses covering his eyes from the light bearing down on him. He glanced at the archer and reached up to turn off his earpiece the same time Clint did, and he shoved himself off the wall. After mounting the bike and stuffing his head into the helmet, Clint noticed Loki hadn't moved, and he flipped his visor up and nodded his head in question. Loki loosened his tightening fists and shook his head, getting on the bike behind the archer and fitting on his helmet, patting Clint on the hip when he was ready. The motorcycle was turned on and they zoomed away, LUCIA making small talk with Clint all the way home.

Loki was just as slow to get off the bike when they arrived at the apartment as he was to get on it, and he walked distractedly behind the blond up the stairs. He moved straight into the bedroom when they went inside, leaving Clint to watch him go as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of the couch. Clint watered the plant in the window of the kitchen first, greeting it with a curt 'Charlie', before going into the bedroom, finding Loki sitting on the bed, unlacing his boots with difficulty. Clint moved to kneel at Loki's feet, slowly unlacing them for the god as he glanced up at the sunglasses still over his eyes.

"What's wrong, baby?"

Loki sighed and pulled the glasses off, setting them in his lap while Clint pulled the boots off his feet. "You love that woman? You called her an affectionate name."

"Rosa? Yeah, I guess; just like how I call Nat."

"You've had her before?"

"Had her?" Clint grunted as he sat got up to sit next to the god and toe his own boots off.

"You fucked her."

The harsh word caught Clint by surprise, whipping his head to furrow his brow at the god. He straightened up and tilted his head away to peer at him suspiciously.

"I have before. I used to, when we were together. Remember I told you I used to work for her? That I was undercover for SHIELD?"

"And Agent Romanov? Have you had her as well? Do you have sex with all those who work at your side?"

"No," Clint assured gruffly. "Quite honestly, the thought of banging Nat scares the shit out of me: she'd eat me alive. And not the way I'd want her to."

Loki grunted and stared down at his sunglasses. Clint leaned back on his arms on the bed, looking at Loki's back.

"I love Rosario like I love Nat- just in a different way." He touched his fingers to the god's back, tracing them under his shirt to touch his cool skin. "Like you. It's just different."

Loki turned and climbed over the archer, knees on either side of his hips, hands planted on the covers above his shoulders, and he stared down at Clint's concerned face.

"She wanted to have you again," Loki said, waiting and searching for a sign that Clint was dishonest.

"Yeah, and you heard me tell her no, didn't you. What did I say?"

"That you are mine now."

"That's right." He slid his hands up Loki's arms and down his shoulders, turning in towards his chest. "It's always gonna be you. Okay? I don't like this jealous thing you've got going on right now because there's nobody to be jealous of."

Loki huffed through his nose and sat himself on the archer's hips, his anger slowly draining from him. Clint let his hands fall off the god's chest to rest on his thighs, rubbing along them soothingly as Loki flicked the button of Clint's jeans absently.

"Tell me what you're thinking," the archer whispered and Loki sucked in a deep breath and looked down at him.

"I'm thinking: I want you."

Clint smirked and held the god's hips to grind up against him gently. "You want me?"

"I want you to show me." He dragged his fingers up under Clint's shirt, barely tracing his fingertips over the tan skin up to his chest. Leaning over him again, noses just touching, black hair curtaining around the archer's face. "Show me 'different'."

When Clint looked into Loki's eyes, he expected to see a challenge in them- squinting and sharp like they would steal his soul if he couldn't deliver, but it wasn't that. It was something Loki couldn't voice, and he would never show it outside of their home, but there, only inches from each other could he express it- pleading. The soft breaths blowing over Clint's lips made him part them, a subconscious anticipation that also had him lifting his head just those few inches to connect him to the god, reaching up to weave his fingers into the wavy locks and hold him in place while he moved his lips against the other's. He pushed with his hips to roll them both over, taking Loki's hands and pinning them to the bed above his head, letting his tongue snake into the awaiting mouth.

Down the god's arms Clint ran his hands, feeling the skin over his neck, the pulse thrumming there, and Loki's jaw and it's small movements with their kisses. He tugged their shirts off and nipped at the jutting collarbones as he laid himself flush on the god, smoothing their stomachs together. He sucked a mark or two on Loki's pale skin, holding the god's arms still on the bed while gently kneading himself down against Loki's aching length. As he shifted down to taste all the pale expanse of skin, Clint slid his hand into the front of the god's jeans, just rubbing the pads of his fingers over the hot flesh he found there, forcing Loki's hips to buck gently into him, always seeking more. Loki was panting, trying to keep his lips sealed against it, but the breaths came out harsher through his nose. His twisted his fingers in the covers tightly, knowing Clint didn't want him to move, and it was destroying him. He had to move, had to be part of the act, but he'd asked for this. He'd asked to be shown. But that didn't mean he couldn't demand more.

"Take it off," he whispered breathlessly, almost not able to get the words out. Clint's tongue had faltered for a moment but got right back on track down the center of his ribs, sometimes making the god jump at a nip of teeth. "Take it off- take these off-" he was grinding their clothed hips together, beginning to squeeze the archer's exploring hand between them.

Clint shuffled lower, kissing the white skin of his belly as he unwrapped the god from his jeans, taking a deft moment to slide his own off as well. Loki's breath fluttered when his length fell against his hip thickly, quickly grasped by the archer at the base and gently squeezed, the slick tongue licking down and down the god's belly. When Clint's warm breath huffed against the shaft, Loki stilled and squeezed his eyes shut, nearly tearing the sheets between his fingers.

"Clint-"

"Let me do this, baby," he whispered, ghosting his lips over the god's groin. He heard the god whimper, trying to hold it in behind his tightly sealed lips, and Clint squeezed the sharp jut of his hip with his other hand before turning his head to slide his mouth up Loki's length to the tip. Loki shuddered and gasped, whole body tensed as Clint bumped his lips against the head, getting the god used to the sensation of another taking hold of him, until he rolled his tongue out and let the god slide into his mouth completely. He ran his hands down the quaking thighs on either side of him to soothe the god, gliding the length back and forth along his tongue as Loki's hips stuttered against the bed and he panted.

Clint pulled off the god for one second, wetting two fingers in his mouth before devouring him again and leading them down to softly rub at Loki's entrance, making the god aware of what his plan was, and then he slid one finger into him. Loki sighed harshly and his toes curled at the probing inside him, legs beginning to move of their own accord and sliding his feet onto the archer's back, pushing and pulling on his skin as Clint sucked him. Another finger slipped into him alongside the first, pushing deep but slow, and Clint skimmed his unoccupied hand up Loki's hips and over his ribs, fingers splayed out and warm against him to ground the god. Loki released the covers in one hand, slapping down on Clint's over his ribs and grabbing his fingers, making the archer glance up and slip the flesh out of his mouth. He turned his hand over to hold the god's in just as firm a grip as Loki gave him. He continued to glide his fingers in and out of the god gently as he kissed his hip.

"Wanna come like this?"

"No, please," Loki rasped, hips trying to grind back into the archer's hand. "I want you in me."

Clint chuckled breathlessly and shimmied up the god's lean frame, keeping his fingers slowly moving in him as he looked down on Loki, taking in his flushed cheeks and panting lips.

"You want me inside you?" he asked in a teasing whisper, bowing his head to lick at the god's neck. "Make you come?" He thrust hard into Loki then, making him moan aloud and reach up to hold Clint by the back of his neck. Clint continued to push his fingers deep into him, pushing the god's pulse higher and higher, green eyes squeezing shut and his eyebrows knitting together in need.

He leaned down to Loki's ear and murmured, "Want me to fuck you."

"Yes!" Loki gasped, body twitching with every swipe of the archer's fingers inside him.

Clint gave Loki's neck one last long lick before sitting up, leaning over to rummage between the mattresses and coming out with a small bottle. Loki exhaled hard and lie there panting gently when Clint removed his fingers, setting about coating himself with clear liquid. He threw the bottle over his shoulder when he was ready, and he told the god to lift his hips, shuffling his legs under him and then settling Loki's lower weight on him. He held the god's leg around his hip as he lined himself up, dipping the head into Loki's entrance for a few moments before sliding smoothly inside. Loki sighed at the sensation of being filled and let his arms rest above him on the bed again, fingering the edge of the mattress as he waited for Clint to get settled. When Clint bottomed out against the god, he leaned over him again, one hand on his hip and the other over his collar, wanting to feel the shakes of Loki's breath and the drum of his heart together under his fingertips.

As the god's breathing started to even out, Clint pushed forward further, deeper, before pulling back and thrusting in again, drawing huffs from the pale body. He sat on his heels and carried Loki's hips on his thighs as he started to slip in and out, head hanging down and mouth open, gasping as he lost himself in the feeling of Loki's hot insides pulling around his length. Loki gripped the edge of the bed, tightening his legs around the archer and pulling himself onto the intruding shaft, beginning to moan while his skin flushed warm and electricity spidered up his groin and through his stomach with every thrust. Clint let his hands fall away from the god, letting Loki impale himself while he pulled back. He braced himself on the bed, leaning over the smooth skin of Loki's chest, watching it rise and fall rapidly, and then he squirmed his hands under the god's back and lowered himself on that expanse of Loki's abdomen as they panted.

The heavy weight of Clint's body on his, the hot and sweat-dampened skin sticking to his made Loki open his eyes and look down his chest at the archer. He moved one hand to the blond hair, tugging it gently to make Clint look at him, showing the tan skin of his face turning pink. He motioned for the archer to sit up and he raised himself up on his arms to pull Clint into a kiss, hips still elevated by the archer's thighs and being thrust into slowly. Clint pushed into him deep and didn't pull away, just pushing deeper and filling the god to make his eyes flutter closed and gasp.

"This what you wanted?" Clint panted, making minute movements inside the god, and then he chuckled shortly. "No one can fill you up like I can, right?"

Loki squeezed Clint's shoulder in wordless reply as he moaned quietly, feeling a tightening in his length, tapping against his belly with the movement.

"No one knows what I want but you," he continued, starting to thrust a little harder as he felt his end nearing. "No one knows me like you. Get it now?"

He wrapped his fingers in Loki's hair and pulled it back to make the god look at him with searching eyes, both panting from the exertion. "It's only you, babe. Just you and me forever."

And then he pulled the god up, locking their lips together and biting as he started to pound into the pale body, wrapping his arms around him hard to hold him steady. He could feel his completion building faster in his groin, and he knew Loki's was also by the sudden heightening of the god's voice in his ear. His hips jerked when he came then, the sound of Loki's moans driving him over the edge; pulling the god faster over his length as he rode it out. Loki's legs tightened around the tanned body thrusting into him and he dug his nails into the flesh of Clint's shoulders, all his muscles going taut as his orgasm rushed over him, groaning behind bared teeth and panting heavily. Clint held him up through it all, his own orgasm dying down to leave him huffing his breath onto Loki's collar. The god wheezed as he came down from his high, dropping his head on the archer's shoulder and rubbing his hands up and down the muscled arms that supported him as he caught his breath.

When they were steady enough, Clint lowered Loki onto the bed again and let himself fall onto the god's chest after pulling his softening flesh out, panting still with the effort. He absently kissed at Loki's chest, letting the afterglow take hold of them. He sighed, tired.

"I sure showed you, huh?"

Loki chuckled and traced his fingers along the definition of Clint's back muscles. "Yes."

"Are you jealous anymore?"

"No."

"Thank God," Clint puffed and settled heavier on the hard body under him.

Loki hummed pleasantly, "You're welcome."

And Clint chuckled breathily and smacked the god on his sides. He sighed, "I don't wanna shower. I know you got-" he swiped his fingers down Loki's belly through the wash of sperm- "Got- spunk all over you, I'm just too fucking tired. The heat, the sex: I'm beat."

"Sleep then," Loki said softly as he rolled Clint off him and lie on his side.

"Gonna sleep with me?"

"Of course."

Clint smiled goofily and hummed, cuddling close to the naked god and shoving his hands under his pillow to help cushion his head. He was asleep in minutes.

* * *

Clint tossed over in the bed, facing the bedside table where his phone sat, already aglow to tell the time. His eyes were foggy and he could barely see the numbers, but he knew it was late in the night. There was a murmuring voice nearby, very low and rumbly, and as he became more awake Clint was able to distinguish syllables, and then words, soon whole sentences, but it was all so foggy still.

"-ready half over. Most of the time left to you may still be used in a youthful way, but then... What will become of me?"

Clint blinked hard to clear out the sleep from his eyes and he inhaled sharply, turning over to face the god, who was sitting up on the bed against the wall, dressed in his pajamas.

"Loki?"

The god looked down at Clint with a clear face.

"Are you talking? Are you talking to me?" Clint was confused, he had obviously been asleep, and he was unsure why the god would have been talking to him when he could see that plainly.

"No, I was talking at you," Loki corrected calmly, sounding as though in a daze.

Clint shook his head and sat up on his elbow. "What? You're talking- at me? You're just talking to me while I sleep?"

"You've never woken up before."

"Wh- what? You do that a lot?"

"You're asking a lot of questions for someone who is supposed to be asleep," Loki said in a teasing scold.

"Yeah, I happen to be awake now, sometimes that happens. Why aren't you sleeping?"

"I've already slept, and then I dressed and came to bed again."

"To talk to me while I sleep," the archer said bluntly, still confused by the turn of events, somewhat suspicious.

Loki was calm and collected, almost serene. "Yes."

Clint stared up at Loki with a furrow in his brow. "How often do you do that? What were you saying?"

"I speak to you a few nights a week, sometimes less- things that require no reciprocation on your part. Mostly it helps me think, to speak aloud."

"Why don't you just wake me up? You can talk to me, you know."

"I know."

"If you know, then why don't you?"

Loki clicked his tongue in exasperation. "I just told you I don't require any return conversation: I merely ask questions that may need solving, and I answer my own questions as I speak them aloud."

Clint squinted at the god and moved to sit up against the wall beside him, looking down at his naked legs under the covers in surprise. "When did I get in the bed?"

"I put you under when I dressed."

"Ah. Well, tell me what you were talking about."

Loki sighed and scratched the top of his thigh distractedly, shaking his head. "You would not wish to hear about it."

"Come on," Clint drawled. "I'm already up and there's nothing you can say that'll bother me. I kill people for a living."

Loki looked away to the floor to deter the archer, to no avail.

"I skin animals for meat, jump off buildings and planes. I kill people," he reiterated and poked Loki in the side, making him sigh in annoyance and look him in the eye.

"It was about your mortality!" He huffed and looked down the length of the bed without seeing.

Clint's brows perked up with interest. "Yeah? Tell me about my mortality, O God." He wanted to laugh, but he held it in, still smiling sarcastically all the same.

Loki heaved a sigh again and shook his head at the archer's 'request', lacing his fingers together in his lap and staying silent.

"No?" Clint said and wiggled to a more comfortable position. "Alright, let me tell you about it instead. I'm forty-something, pretty healthy, fit, all that jazz, but I'll still only live another fifty years at best. Sixty if I'm a good boy- I'd like to make it to a hundred, it's a nice even number. But this is all dependent on if we can survive the next couple months so we can get out of here. And then it's an adrenaline-filled life in Europe or Asia; living out our days as notorious, devilish bad guys until..."

Clint stopped suddenly, brows beginning to furrow, and he looked down at his lap. Loki exhaled hard and looked at the archer out of the corner of his eye, knowing he'd just realized something.

"Are you immortal like this?" Clint asked gently.

"We've never been immortal, we simply live much longer. It's no magic, Clint," Loki murmured. "I'll live beyond you."

Clint grunted, feeling like the rug had been pulled out from under him and he suddenly wished that he was the kind of person to plan for the future. He hadn't thought about what would become of him and Loki when Clint was 80 years old. Or just 50.

"Hm. Well, so you'll still be young and fine when I'm dead," Clint played it off easily. "I did say there could be other people: I didn't just mean for me."

"No, you're not thinking still," Loki admonished gently. "We're still under Odin's contract. You remember the original purpose for my living with you, yes?"

Clint's face fell. "Fuck. If I die, you die."

"So you see my predicament."

"No. No-" Clint drew his knees up to his chest and rested his arms on them. "See all you have to do is get on Odin's good side- do all the shit he wants you to do and then the contract will be done with. You'll live on, shakin' it in Asgard while I'm rotting in my grave. Easy."

Loki sighed and shook his head, looking up at the ceiling like a plea to God. "No, it's not so easy."

"Why not?"

"When did I say I wanted to live without you?"

Clint scoffed and realized he shouldn't have when Loki turned to him with miffed look. "No, I'm sorry, I don't mean that. Babe-" he snorted- "I'm gonna be an old man; wrinkled and grey and totally not looking like I do now. I won't be able to walk eventually, maybe not even remember who you are. You're not gonna want to wait around for that."

"I might be able to fix that. When I get my magic back, I'll have to work on something..."

Clint sighed and shimmied down under the covers again, lying on his side and looking up at the god. "What made you think about this? This is years away, more than I care about."

"Because you said it would be 'you and me forever'... Forever is something no human is capable of achieving- not even my people live eternally." Loki looked down at the archer, sadness in his eyes but relenting to cold, hard fact. "Don't say 'forever'. There is no such thing."

Clint let a moment of silence pass between them as he thought about the time he had left with the god, how long or short it could be whether separated by death or new love- anything- and he wondered when he'd gotten so attached to Loki that he couldn't imagine the next day without him. If he had only a very limited time to be with the god-

"Then you better make it worth my while."


	20. Khyber Pass

As the elevator descended, Clint zipped up his vest with a rough jerk, slapping all the pockets along its front to double check his gear. Loki kept fiddling with his own vest, tugging it down at its hem and looking uncomfortable.

"Got everything?"

"I stowed everything you laid out for me."

"How's your earpiece feel?"

"It's comfortable enough, though all my hearing on that side is now... less."

"You'll get used to it."

The elevator wobbled to a stop and they got out, gathering their helmets when they reached Clint's bike. They mounted the machine and the archer revved the engine, letting the starting diagnostics run by on the screen. Inside his helmet the soft voice of the AI sounded.

"Welcome back, Agent Barton."

"Hey, LUCIA. Got a destination for you, but I need a back-alley entrance- something away from the watch of the general public. Can you do that?"

"Of course, sir. Address?"

They zoomed into the streets, not at all empty even through the dark night, but the two nearly disappeared with the bike in the darkness.

* * *

At the mouth of an alleyway Clint shut the engine off and walked the bike silently into it, parking behind a dumpster to hide it from any pedestrian glances. They hooked their helmets on the handlebars and Clint reached up to his ear to turn on his headset. Loki followed suit.

"Mic check," Clint muttered absently as he checked his pistol again.

Loki pulled on a tight pair of rough leather gloves, threading his fingers together to push them down.

"Mic check heard," he responded.

"Okay. I'm going up top, I'll stay along the edges so we're always close. You stay on the ground and you tell me if you find anything strange that I don't call out first. Got it?"

Loki nodded and Clint took a deep breath and turned away for a ladder leading to the roof of a short building. He climbed up as the god began walking deeper into the alley, checking the locator on his wrist for the map of the vicinity. Along the map's squares and rectangles were two green dots- one for him and one for Clint. A small compass pointed north in one corner and a free floating arrow in the center tilted in the direction of their destination, listing the distance in yards.

He glanced up to see Clint stalking the edge of the building, looking ahead and glancing at his surroundings. At the corner Clint crouched and scanned the area still, leaning over the edge to look down the intersecting alley. Loki pulled his pistol from its holster and slyly peeked around the corner of the building just as he heard Clint speak lowly in his ear.

"On your nine- movement."

"I hear it," the god muttered and checked the position. He rounded the corner and slid against the wall as he went, keeping his back to it as he continuously looked down both sides of the alley. Reaching the side of a dumpster, he crouched low and peeked around its edge for one second and then retreated back down to his corner.

"It's a whore and her customer," he informed the archer and heard him snort.

"At least someone's getting something tonight."

Loki smiled although Clint wouldn't see it. "I could always oblige you, though we are in the midst of reconnaissance."

"Heh. Maybe when we get home."

"Boys," Natasha's voice came into their ears, "Focus."

Loki checked his locator again and started down the intersecting alley, going deeper into the dark.

"Hello, Agent Romanov," he greeted calmly as he peered around another corner, gun up and ready for a shot. "I wasn't aware you would be joining us."

"Just listening in- checking your info."

"Are we being recorded, Nat?" Clint tried to keep his question as innocent as possible just in case they were being recorded, but he wasn't sure how to ask that without sounding suspicious. She denied it and Clint felt better, scuttling along the rooftop quietly.

Down the alley intersecting again, a door was open and spewing bright light. Clint looked down the side of the building and saw nothing but the light. He murmured to Loki to check it out carefully and the god did so, sidling up the wall and around yet another dumpster, stepping around the empty cardboard boxes strewn everywhere. He stopped beside the door and listened for a moment.

"Going for a smoke, Aaron!"

A shadow crept through the light and grew over the ground and up the opposing wall and then a girl stepped out, just turning to stand where Loki stood and she gasped when she saw him in the faint shadows. The girl's mouth hung open and she dropped her lighter onto the grimy ground as Loki pointed his weapon at her and raised a finger to his lips slowly to indicate her silence. From inside the building Loki heard the clattering of dishes and others shouting commands about food stuffs. The god turned away unceremoniously and left the girl dumbstruck.

"It's a restaurant," he said in his earpiece.

"Boring."

The god checked the locator again and headed in the direction of the arrow.

"I think I can see it from here," Clint said. "Looks like a parking garage? Weird place for a hideout."

He checked the distance between his building and the next and took it at a running jump, leaping the alleyway to the next short rooftop. He grunted as he rolled to a stop and got up to jog to the edge, keeping his eye down for Loki.

"It's under construction," Natasha informed him. "But the workers have been on strike for a few months- no one's been there since then."

Clint grunted. "An entire parking tower left unsupervised- fucking breeding ground for tweakers."

"Right, so watch yourselves."

"Hear all that, Loki?"

The god was still skulking down and down the alleys, getting closer to the destination, just wanting to get the mission over with.

"What are tweakers?"

"Drug addicts, hobos, alcoholics sleeping it off in an alley, take your pick. People that are potentially dangerous and desperate when they can't get their fix."

"Marvelous," Loki grumbled. He looked above him and watched Clint jump to another rooftop and then he continued onwards, finally able to see the parking garage. He was cautious as he inched up to the tower, looking up at it's full height, dark throughout the entire block but for a faint yellow glow at the top corner.

"Hawkeye, can you see that light at the top?"

"Yeah," Clint confirmed breathily. "There's plastic lining the openings; light's coming from inside. Must be where they are. Hold on, I'm coming down to you."

Loki heard rustling and a grunt and then the archer was suddenly behind him, having dropped down from the rooftops. Clint came up beside him and craned his neck to see the glowing light. He grimaced at it and then jostled the god with his elbow, signaling for him to follow as he started into the tower of concrete, dodging traffic cones and jumping rolls of abandoned plastic wrap, bundles of cast-iron strengthening rods. They scuttled to the center of the ground floor where a giant pillar of concrete balanced the building around it, and they moved to stand on either side of the one metal door there. Clint nodded to Loki and the god twisted the knob of the door and let it swing open as Clint thrust his head and gun into the stairwell, checking for enemies. He pulled out a moment later and groaned, coughing as quietly as he could.

"Jesus fuck. You smell that?"

Loki grimaced and turned his head away, exhaling the lungful of stench he'd taken.

Natasha crackled in their ears, "What is it?"

"Ugh! Smells like... Rot. Rotting food. Garlic. It's the same fucking smell of that chemical shit Prophet fed us."

"Then our sources were most likely right- he makes his gas here. Or stores it there. Either way." Natasha seemed to grasp the brevity of the situation without having to be there or see it. She whispered to them, "Be careful."

Clint cupped a hand over his mouth and nose and moved into the stairwell again with his pistol pointed up the center. Loki followed close behind and kicked a chunk of concrete into the door to keep it open a sliver. They hustled up the flights of stairs as silently as they could, taking a break every few flights to catch their breath, wishing they didn't have to with the reeking smell. A few floors below the top, they slowed their pace and listened as they crept. A faint drumming sound reached them and it got louder as they approached the top- music with hard beats and a chanting, crackling voice and electric guitars. At the top of the stairs, the door was shut, but Clint peeked in through the long window embedded in it, eyes flicking back and forth as he searched. He drew back from the window and spoke lowly.

"There's barely an opening in the plastic to see through. If we open the door and sit right here I think we'll be able to get a view in."

Loki shook his head, disagreeing with the plan. "We'll be right in their line of sight- they're most likely keeping it open to see who comes and goes through the door."

"There's no other way to get in, unless you want to hide outside the plastic and cut a hole for our eyes like we're watching a fucking peep show!"

"I have no idea what that is," Loki snarled at the archer and grabbed the door handle. "Go then, if you want to die so badly!"

Clint laid his hand over Loki's and squeezed. "I'm sorry, okay? Just trust me, I've done this a shitload of times- you're safe with me."

The god's venomous glare softened some with Clint's calming tone and he took a stabilizing breath and nodded, though he was still unhappy. Clint gestured for him to open the door and he did so slowly by centimeters. Clint edged up to the growing crack, letting the light into the stairwell by a thin line as he peered out into the abandoned parking area. The plastic sheets hung everywhere before them, and just as Clint had said there was rift between two sheets right outside the door. As the door opened enough for his head to stick out, he crouched down low and shimmied half of himself through it, listening for the sounds of people through the crashing noise of the music. He hadn't heard anything yet, and he moved to lie down on his stomach in the doorway, letting Loki crawl over him to sit on his knees over the archer's back. Clint readied his weapon in tandem with the god, but they inspected the contents of the plastic-lined room carefully from their position.

There were tall steel canisters scattered everywhere, wood crates stacked up and some with their lids off and leaning against them. Caged lights were set up on stands to light the place up, glinting off glass vials and shiny plastic tubes lined up on the corner of a table barely visible through the small opening. Loki cocked his head at the oddly shaped glasses on the table and leaned forward to see more. He set his hands on the dusty floor above Clint's shoulders, and followed the curling tubes leading in and out of the vials until the figure of a seated man came into view, his back to the door. Loki jerked back and leaned down to Clint's ear.

"There's a man seated at the table right here," he whispered.

Clint hummed and squinted at the canisters, making out the words curving around them. -xide Ni-. -us Oxi. He put the words together, mouthing them as he sounded them out silently. He was safe enough to whisper through the music to Natasha.

"There're bottles of nitrous oxide all over the place. No wonder everything was so fucking funny. Chemistry sets... This is the place."

Loki leaned down to him once more. "I don't believe Prophet is intelligent enough to make his own poisons- he either isn't here, or he's actually not speaking for once. Therefore I believe he simply is not present."

"Shit."

"Why don't we kill them? There can't be many- we haven't heard anything and it's such a small area."

"No," Natasha commanded in their ears. "This is recon- don't kill them. We need to know what they're using."

Loki tapped the archer on the shoulder and scuttled back into the stairwell for Clint to follow him. He shut the door silently and cut out the din of music.

"We have them unawares," Loki said to him, and Natasha at HeadQuarters. "If they're such a threat to society- murdering innocents; why shouldn't we kill them now? This could freeze their supply and make trouble for Prophet, leading him to be sloppy and scramble for new resources. Won't we come back to kill them anyway?"

"The mission right now is to find their hideout. Check them out, get numbers, find supplies. You don't have orders to kill." Natasha's voice was strong but calm, no nonsense.

The look Loki gave Clint was dangerous, an anger beginning to boil that he was trying to keep a lid on. He reached up and switched off his earpiece and moved to do the same to Clint's.

"This is what I was speaking of," he said now that they were alone. "They want something from these hooligans."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look at this place!" Loki flung his hand out towards the door to indicate the plastic room beyond. "It's a laboratory and they've made something that SHIELD wants to get their hands on. If they were some two-bit criminals we would have slit their throats already- not inventoried their hoard. There is an agenda that you grunts of SHIELD have not been made aware of. I've told you this before."

Clint gave him a warning look before he glanced out the little window into the makeshift lab. "Who gives a fuck if SHIELD wants whatever they're making? We're going to kill them later, okay? They won't hurt anyone then and SHIELD will be happy with their new toy. Maybe they'll let me use it to make my job easier!"

"If they're going to die, what's the harm in doing it now then? Surely these creatures have made notes of their recipe and it'll be sitting pretty right on top for SHIELD to gather and brew up for themselves. Kill them now and there will be no more blood shed of your people by their hand. If we don't, there will be another mess for us to clean up in the future while we wish we had just taken the chance to shoot them all."

The archer sighed hard, contemplating the consequences if they were to do as Loki wished.

"Imelda was on the verge of murdering herself," the god said in a low grumble. "We were close to that as well, now imagine that Prophet is out there in the city this moment with another set of victims."

"We're going to kill them, we just have to do it by the book. We have to play by SHIELDs rules. They don't want them killed right now so we don't. We'd be in some serious shit if we did."

And Loki scoffed, "Oh, please! What will they do- give us a spanking? There is more at stake here than the simple completion of reconnaissance. Lives at stake. Isn't that what you joined for? To save your fellow man."

Clint balled up his fists and tensed the muscles in his arms, knowing Loki was manipulating him into deviating from the mission, but he just couldn't make himself follow orders.

"Fuck," he growled and looked up at the god, pointing a warning finger up between them. "When they ask, you let me tell the story how this happened, okay? If I let you tell it they'll never trust us again. Go with everything I say."

Loki nodded without a smile. "Of course."

He slid the door open a sliver again, just enough for the muzzle of his gun and he aimed out. In the next second he squeezed the trigger and there was a mouse-squeak of a sound before one of the canisters exploded, blowing out all the plastic wrap like a tent blowing in the breeze. Clint retreated beside the door again as it was forced shut by the blast and they listened to the cacophony of surprised and panicked shouts.

Clint nodded at the god and readied his pistol.

"Ready?"

Loki just smiled nastily and held up his gun as well. The archer chuckled and set his hand on the doorknob.

"God, you get off on this!"

"Mm. Just as you do."

"Let's kill these fuckers."

He flung the steel door open and ran out behind the plastic sheets, hiding in the shadow made by the popped bulbs of the light stand. He aimed towards the door as Loki jumped out, heading straight into the lab and its mess of exploded glass and wood.

The man who had sat at the table was lying on the floor, bleeding from his nose and unconscious as he was being lifted by another, a man in glasses, who looked up at Loki with shock on his face. He was barely able to shout out incoherently before the god shot him in the head. Clint hustled into the lab as the man fell back dead onto the floor and three others down the long hall of plastic wrap jumped up from frantically packing things into bags, two of them with weapons in hand. Clint ducked away behind a half-intact crate as they opened fire, but Loki stood his ground and fired back at them with the archer, laying them down in only a few seconds of gunfire.

When the echoes of the shots died away, they listened for a sign of life and found none, just the sounds of settling debris; tinkling glass beneath their boots. Clint stood up and took count of the bodies, Loki brushed the bangs away from the face of the man with glasses. He hummed appreciatively in the recognition he found.

"This is 'the boy who cried wolf' during our stay with Prophet," he said to the archer.

Clint grunted and checked the faces of the others but he couldn't recognize them. "I didn't think you knew that story."

"I recently checked out a book of children's stories and nursery rhymes."

"Good timing."

"Yes, I thought so."

Suddenly the archer threw up his hands in irritation and huffed. "Five fucking guys. That's it? Five guys."

"Apparently so," Loki muttered as he bent down to inspect the remnants of the chemistry table.

"And they're putting all New York in a panic with their chemistry set in a half-finished parking garage. I know it's only a small part of a larger operation but come the fuck on!"

"You sound disappointed," Loki chuckled quietly.

"I kinda am! Two guns laying down on you, standing right out in the middle, and they couldn't hit you."

The god snorted and took Clint by the arm, turning him towards the door. Clint fussed the whole way into the stairwell, complaining about the lack of competent enemies he'd been encountering lately, how they were half-baked wanna-be criminals trying to get their kicks. He ranted as he was pushed up against the wall in the stairwell until Loki suddenly disappeared from his vision and he felt a hand rubbing over his crotch. He caught his breath from his tirade as he looked down to see the god on his knees, unbuckling Clint's pants leisurely. Loki tugged them down slightly and pulled out the archer's half-hard cock, squeezing gently as he pulled on it.

Clint wheezed and wanted to laugh. "Right now?"

"Yes," Loki said as his tongue darted out to lick the underside of the head. "Right now."

Clint's length was rapidly hardening with the attention, getting licks along the underside and nibbles at the base, and he stuttered as he rested his hand on the top of Loki's head.

"Oh fuuuuck..."

"In a moment," the god informed him just before taking the entire length of the archer into his mouth.

Clint knocked his head back into the wall and hissed as he gripped Loki's hair, trying his hardest not to thrust into the wet cavern the god had accepted him into. He barely registered the sound of clinking metal and shifting clothes, a zipper being undone, he was solely concentrating on that mouth and its wet suction. Velcro ripping open made him open his eyes finally and he look down to see the god pull off of his length and pop open the cap of a small bottle, dripping the contents onto his shaft and rubbing it in. Loki rose and turned to the railing of the staircase, holding onto it hard through his leather gloves and looking over his shoulder at the archer, beginning to pant. He hooked his thumb into the back of his tactical pants and drew them down an inch to entice the archer, who chuckled disbelievingly and went right to him, tugging the pants down the god's ass and rubbing his slickened length between his cheeks. As he reached to wrap his arms around the tall one, he remembered his pistol was still in hand and he clicked the safety on before teasing the muzzle down from Loki's belly to touch the base of his rigid flesh. The god breathed heavily and reached back to Clint's hips, pulling him in a gesture to hurry up. Clint chuckled as he grasped his length and lined up the tip to Loki's entrance, rubbing it teasingly.

"Want this?" he rasped in Loki's ear and began to nudge inside him. "Want this dick?"

He pushed forward hard and sheathed himself completely inside the god and made him groan and gasp, fisting the railing in front of him hard as he pushed back against the archer. The blond pushed Loki to lean down and then gripped his hips with one free hand and the other crushing the pistol into his skin to thrust viscously into him, grunting with every inward motion. Loki took the pounding pleasantly, mouth hanging open as he kept his head down towards the floor, letting his breath come out in huffs. He was almost lost in the pleasure until the door behind them creaked and he reacted instantly, whipping his gun from its holster just below his hip and twisting to shoot the intruder in the face, dropping him to the floor in a heap. He sighed and turned back to the railing with gun still in hand as Clint barked out in nervous laughter.

"Shit! Almost scared me out of my hard on."

"Don't you dare," the god growled and pushed back onto Clint's cock to remind him of their business. "He's dead now- finish me."

Clint chuckled, bewildered and excited, and he went back to thrusting into the god with vigor, making it a goal to have Loki moan with every filling of his body. He pulled Loki up to his chest and bit into the back of his shoulder through his shirt, rubbing his gun against the base of the god's length as he pistoned harshly in and out, finding his release on its way. Loki dropped his head back onto the archer's shoulder and panted, leading Clint's free hand to his cock to stroke it. The sound of the door slamming open at the bottom of the stairwell reached them, shouts of SHIELD agents giving commands and starting up the stairs and Loki gasped, reaching around Clint's head to pull him into a sloppy kiss.

"Hurry," he moaned. "They're coming."

Clint grunted and pounded into the god, holding his middle with his arms to force him back onto his cock, listening to the heightening moans of the god and the steps of the soldiers closing in on them.

"Hurry, Clint," Loki panted, losing himself and feeling his release on the edge. Another thrust and his legs went numb, tightening himself around the archer as he came, dripping onto the concrete. Clint cursed as he thrust through the vice-grip Loki put on his cock, jerking unsteadily until he came into the god, smacking his hips into the flesh of Loki's ass hard as he milked himself. They took one moment to breathe after their orgasms before Clint slid out of the god and hiked his pants up around his hips again, Loki doing the same and clearing his throat as he gathered his forgotten bottle of lubricant, tucking it away in his vest again. The soldiers reached the top of the stairs then, pointing their rifles at the two with the flashlights blinding them before turning them down and hustling past into the laboratory. Natasha brought up the rear of the trail of men, scowling at the archer and god as she reached the landing. She looked down at the heap of dead man in the doorway and looked back up at Clint, waiting for an explanation.

Clint was sheepish, smiling and chuckling nervously as he gestured her into the lab behind him.

"You're late for the party- it was a blast."

She stuck her head out and inspected quickly before turning back.

"I see. And your comms? Those go out before or after the explosion?"

Clint tried to play dumb, reaching up to tap the plastic in his ear canal. "They went out? Wow, didn't even notice."

"Mm-hm." She didn't believe him for a second, she knew better.

She kneeled to search the dead body for identification and Clint folded his arms, cocking his head at the body.

"Where the hell did he come from anyway? I though we checked the whole place."

"He was the man at the table," Loki stated. "The blast must have only knocked him unconscious."

One of the soldiers in his blackish-blue gear and heavy rifle came to the door as Natasha stood up, wallet in hand.

"The area is secure, Ma'am. There are no survivors."

She flipped the wallet open and sifted through the cards inside.

"Thank you. You and your team can leave- send in the cleaning crew."

The soldier nodded jerkily and stood at attention. "Yes, Ma'am." And then he retreated to gather his men, hustling them back down the stairwell.

The redhead turned to Clint and Loki, slapping the wallet closed and sliding it into her jacket pocket.

"There's a debrief in forty-five minutes- let's get going."

She started towards the stairs, setting her boot on the first step down and then she looked at the landing right beside the banister. Loki's cooling sperm in dark, wet drips dotted the concrete. She looked up at the two, unimpressed, and Clint gave her a shit-eating grin, shrugging his shoulders. She rolled her eyes and started down the stairs, letting the boys follow after her like children being taken to their father for punishment.

* * *

In the conference room by themselves, Clint threw himself into one of the leather chairs, twirling the seat in a circle while he pulled out his earpiece and tossed it on the table. Loki sat in a chair beside him more gently, also removing his communicator and stowing it in a pocket of his vest. Clint laid his head back and chuckled to himself,

"I can't believe you brought lube on a mission."

Loki just smiled to himself and chuckled silently.

The door behind them opened and they didn't turn to see who entered, waiting to find Natasha stroll over and sit on Clint's left and then Fury stand beside her. The bald man looked sternly down at the archer. He didn't yell, though he wanted to, but he found that Clint tuned out any kind of angry, loud shouts.

"Care to explain what happened?" Fury asked as calmly as he could.

Clint shrugged, "One of the guys caught us by surprise- we killed him, shit exploded. Then we took out the others."

"Was that completely necessary?"

"They were shooting at us, so I thought so."

Fury hummed and nodded, not convinced but willing to let it be for now. "This was only supposed to be reconnaissance. We were going to apprehend them and question them at a later date."

"Why?" Clint scoffed.

"Well, the chemicals they've been using on their victims are a unique formula," Fury sighed as he sat himself in the leather chair he'd been hovering behind. "We've been curious about it."

Clint swiveled his chair to look at Loki with a scowl, and the god returned it with an 'I told you so' raise of his brows. But Fury was able to get his attention again:

"But the cleaning crew informed me that our dear departed chemists left some very detailed notes, so I guess the mission wasn't a total failure."

Clint growled. "What's the big deal? Were you going to kill them after the interrogation or not?"

"No, they would've been put on trial for their crimes, sentenced to life in prison most likely."

"Why?! They were fucking scum! If we had left them, they would've just killed some more before we got around to catching them."

The Director shifted in his seat, digging around in his back pocket before coming out with a wallet and tossing it on the table between Clint and Loki. Clint picked it up and flipped it open, being greeted with a photograph of a woman and two small girls, and the man at the chemistry set Loki had shot while they were fucking. All smiling up at Clint on a summers day.

Clint scoffed and tapped the photo behind it's protective plastic with the side of his finger. "This supposed to make me feel bad?"

He handed the wallet over to Loki, who curiously looked inside and raised his eyebrows expectantly. Clint explained the situation to him.

"They're saying we shouldn't have killed him because he has a family."

Loki scoffed then and threw the wallet on the table dismissively. "Most killers have families, Director Fury. The All-father led vicious wars that destroyed hundreds of thousands of men- he has a wife and son. I did not take you for such a bleeding heart."

"Does your father deserve to be killed for his actions?" Fury tried to counter, and Loki ticked his head,

"Perhaps. And he's not my father; my biological father was murdered some time ago. By myself."

Clint furrowed his brows at the god. "Really?"

And Loki merely nodded and confirmed with a hum as though they were discussing a regular fact of life. Clint hummed in return and looked away towards the Director.

"I'm not going to say I'm sorry, Fury. I'm not sorry. The fucker's dead and I'm glad. One less murderer on the streets, right? I'm tired of cleaning up innocent people's dead bodies. We might've just lit the fuse and this will explode Prophet's shit right in his face! And you even got your precious notes to boil up a brew of fucking voodoo juice. Everybody's happy." He stood up then, "We done here?"

The Director bored a look of wrath into Clint's eyes and nodded, "We're done."

* * *

Loki followed Clint dutifully out of the conference room and through headquarters, passing Sitwell on the way down the main staircase and the bald man seemed pissed. He had tried to avert his gaze from the two but glanced at them as he neared, eyebrows down low and a frown on his face. They stopped at Clint's locker in the gym basement and Loki began to remove his tactical gear while the archer opened the lock. He watched Clint violently get out of his own clothes, throwing them into the locker haphazardly and the god slowly and calmly undressed as well. He lay his clothes over the bench instead. He handed Clint his pistol in its holster and Clint set it in the locker gently, and then sat on the bench in his shorts with a sigh, rubbing his forehead with one hand. Loki looked down on him, naked and uncaring.

"Are you upset because you realize I'm right?"

Clint rubbed his eyes roughly and groaned. "Right about what?"

"SHIELD," Loki said simply.

"Wanting the chems doesn't prove anything other than they're greedy. They've always been like that."

"It's still quite threatening that they would have all these devious weapons, storing them away."

Clint huffed heavily through the muggy warm air and shook his head lightly. "I don't wanna talk about this, babe," he whispered, suddenly exhausted. "Let's just shower and go home."

"As you wish," Loki assented as he padded by the archer to the wet tiles of the showers. Clint watched him go, feeling like his arms were numb, and he got up with effort, wondering if his legs were going to be able to get him to the tiles without buckling. He stood at the edge of the showers, in the small entryway of the short dividing wall and he watched Loki stand in the hard spray of water, head hanging and arms limp at his sides. A slam of a locker down the room somewhere punched out in the quiet, and then the sound of the doors opening and shutting with the departure of some agent. Clint shucked off his shorts and laid them over the half-wall before stepping into the showers, feet slapping the puddles of water along the way until he came up behind the god and wrapped his arms around the pale body. Loki jolted in his skin and then sighed sadly, resting his hands over the archer's while Clint thudded his forehead against his back. He let the water swim down from the god's shoulders to drip off the end of his nose, looking intently at the wet black locks flattened under the drench.

"You don't believe me," Loki muttered, tracing his thumbs along the back of Clint's hands.

"I don't want to, but I know it's probably true. To some extent." He squeezed tight around the god for a second and rubbed his cheek against the tall one's back. "I'm not trying to piss you off, babe. It's just... I've been with SHIELD for so long- it's hard to just slam 'em. I feel like, if I do, it'll be something violent and destructive and we're not ready for that- we still have some prep to do before we can go."

The god turned in Clint's grasp and swiped back the sopping blond hair from his face.

"I understand your feelings- they are similar to my own during a- harsh turning point in my life some time ago. I did not want to believe a long-hidden truth and I sought to destroy the one thing that could link me to it... Destructive and violent and it led me to the life I lead now."

Clint's grey eyes were boring into Loki's, hard and searching and Loki had to look away, drawing his hands down from the archer's face to his neck, watching the water drip down his arms and off his elbows.

"You have a very strong will, a strong soul, but a mind behind it to keep it all in check. You do not let your emotions fly away with you but you are curious enough to explore them in safety, with stability." He chuckled and suddenly smiled. "You have heart."

Clint looked at the god with widening eyes, remembering the day Loki had said that to him once before, but he was shocked that he now looked back on that day with pleasure. The first sight of Loki crouched on the dock of the Tesseract had sent through Clint a mixture of fearful curiosity; wary awe. And when he had tried to fight against the god, and caught himself in the sharp gaze of his then-blue eyes; when he had heard those words spoken in a breathless whisper... He hadn't been sure what he was feeling then, and he still wasn't sure, but now he likened it to-

"I love you."

The god's eyes darted up to Clint's in surprise, his hands fell off the archer's body. Clint snorted with a disbelieving shake to his head and he looked straight into Loki's eyes again.

"Yeah, you heard me."

Loki brought his shaking hands up to Clint's neck again, stroking gently as though he thought the blond would crumble away if he pushed too hard. His breath stuttered though he tried to hold it in, and he was trying to keep back a grin. He bowed his head to touch his nose against the archer's, fingers trailing up to wind in his short hair gently and Clint grinned and chuckled again as Loki started to smile.

"I love you, Lo," he whispered before Loki drew him in and slid their lips together. They kissed lazily, bodies pressed together under the shower's spray, Clint's hands wrapped around the god's neck to pull him down in the kiss and Loki's on the back of the blond's head to keep him there. The cloying steam wafted around them and all that could be heard was the splashing of water on the tiles echoing through the locker room. They pulled apart breathlessly and smiled at each other, seeming like they didn't know what to do with themselves now. They chuckled at their behavior and moved to actually clean up, using the same shower head to rinse with; keeping close and smirking at each other.


	21. This Place is a Prison

Clint drove them home through the night, the streets not quite so crowded in the early hour of the morning. The traffic would build again soon- New York never slept. Loki was tranquil and quiet, his eyes not even completely open as they rode to their home. He sighed and held onto Clint's waist with his fingers laced together. Clint didn't talk to LUCIA like he usually did, just listening to the road instead. When they pulled up to the apartment building and the god pulled off his helmet with a happy smile, Clint chuckled at him, taking off his own helmet. Loki leaned over him, laying his arms over the archers shoulders and pressing a kiss to his lips. The gentle and needy gesture made Clint chuckle some more but he didn't deny the god's kisses, no matter that they were on the sidewalk. There was nobody out at this time. He rubbed his hands over Loki's sides as he pulled away and he grinned up at his lover.

"Feeling all mushy inside after what I said?"

Loki hummed happily, his own hands trailing down the archers neck and chest. "You have no idea the texture of my insides."

"Sure about that? I think I know some of it."

"You are so very vulgar," Loki said, no malice in his voice.

"Yeah, I'm good at that."

They started into the building and up the stairs, counting off how close they were to making their escape. The bank account in Switzerland was being set up, though they still needed Loki's new identification papers and Clint hoped Rosario would have them ready soon. The villa Stark owned was already prepped for their arrival, and now they would only have to pack up the apartment and send it all away to the new house.

They started packing after they ate- Chinese delivery and Coronas at the tiny dining table while a movie played in the background. It was too early in the morning for jazz, Imelda wasn't awake yet. But lately there hadn't been much music shared between them. Her window stayed closed a lot. Clint thought that maybe she was away, visiting her daughter to collect herself after the ordeal with Prophet. He didn't blame her either. He supposed any person without the lifestyle and training he had would react the same way. Take a vacation and take it easy. After Clint rescued Natasha from the basement of a flour mill in Argentina, hours of waterboarding and boiling oil dripped slowly onto her belly, they escaped to Brazil and partied in Carnival until they passed out. Clint had danced with the women in their flashy bikinis and giant feathers down the streets while Natasha arm-wrestled bikers and ate a scorpion on a dare. As a souvenir she had a scorpion painted on its back to look like it wore a biker's jacket, with a skull and crossed pistols, and kept it preserved in a small mold that she hung off her keyring. Clint was pretty sure he got a few women pregnant, so he preferred not to remember that he was in Rio that particular year.

The movies were boxed up after 'dinner' and Clint was grateful that there was a 24-hour Chinese place. Extra clothes, bedsheets, trinkets were packed away, even the neat pile of rabbit furs that Clint cursed about because he hadn't been able to make into a blanket yet. He figured he'd have enough money to blow after they left though that he would either pay to have it sewn up or he'd buy a pre-made fur blanket. Clint took his time letting go of his bow, reluctant to stow it in a box with the quiver like it was some other unimportant possession like DVDs or socks.

Loki noticed Clint's slowed movements and watched him stare at the bow on the wall. He lifted it gently off the hooks, never having touched it since Clint had yelled at him not to, but he took the risk and held it out to the archer. Clint looked up at the god, not angry about the weapon in his grasp, he was almost sad.

"You will be reunited with it in time," Loki reminded him softly, bringing it closer. "We're almost gone from this place."

Clint stared hard at it in contemplation, pursing his lips and his brows knitting together. For a moment Loki thought he was going to say he didn't want to pack it up, but Clint finally nodded and took the bow from him, rubbing his thumb along the beads on the grip. He swiped the quiver up from the floor and set them both gently in their own box, cushioned on all sides by balled up newspaper. The box was sealed and Clint set it aside where it wouldn't be kicked or tripped on. None of the boxes would be opened, Tony already assured them of it. The hired maids that go through the villa every few weeks for cleaning would set their boxes inside and leave them for the owners- they had been informed that the house would be occupied again soon. This was basic protocol, the billionaire had said, in case there was any sensitive material inside that others shouldn't be privy to: confidential papers, secret science projects, age-old family heirlooms, sex toys. The last one Tony had said with a laugh, apparently having had a mishap concerning it.

With a big sigh Clint straightened up after moving the box, turning to see the god smiling at him. He snorted and went to him for a hug, feeling silly about his hesitation. Loki understood though, burying his nose in the blond hair and inhaling his scent. When the front door rattled in its frame, the knob jiggling and twisting back and forth, both of their guards rose in suspicion and they pulled apart. A glance at his watch told Clint it was four-fifteen in the morning and he knew it wasn't Natasha on the other side of the door. She had a key. But he didn't have much time to contemplate. He whipped the pistol out of the back of his pants and moved to stand beside the door, waiting while the door continued to jiggle. Loki stayed where he was, in full view of the doorway because he like flirting with danger. It became silent for a second as the person on the other side stopped and then the door was busted open, splinters of wood from the frame flying down to the floor and the door itself ripped off one of the hinges. Still holding onto the doorknob, Thor stepped into the apartment, fury apparent on his face as he zeroed in on Loki. He released the knob, crushed into the mold of his grip and he stomped up to the magic-less god, who looked just as confused as Clint. The archer huffed about the front door being broken, hanging limply on one bent hinge and the frame exploded from the bolt lock, and he complained how he'd have to fix it, and how rude not to fucking knock man. Thor lent him no ear though, bellowing at Loki, literally yelling in his face about apparent 'terrible decisions' he'd made since being on Earth.

"This is how you choose to redeem yourself? Father laid this judgement on you so you could learn a lesson just as I had, and you are spitting in his face by your actions! I have heard everything from Heimdall, Loki. You are squandering this opportunity-"

"Oh, listen to these big words," Loki hissed under his brother's shouts. "This is Odin's speech isn't it? You can't even come up with your own words to berate me."

The Thunder god lifted his hammer, heaving it between them up to Loki's chin. "You will not goad me this time, Brother, I've lost too much of my faith in you."

"Is that so? Then why bother coming to me now to scream in my face? It's the middle of the night, and you've broken into my home!" Loki gestured at the door Clint was trying to fit back into place. "Had you been bound to the laws of Earth as I am, you would be tossed into a cell. At least I have not been 'breaking and entering'."

This made the burly god puff up. "No, you have been murdering instead!"

Loki blinked stupidly at Thor, thrown by the accusation. "Murdering?" It took him only a second to realize, to remember the events that had transpired only some hours ago when he had indeed killed, and he suddenly knew why his brother had appeared to him now. He took a step back, eyes widening, but he knew he had nowhere to go, no way to resist.

"Father is in the Odin-Sleep, and I am King now." Thor shook his head in disappointment and looked at Loki with sad and steely eyes. "I won't let you hurt these people any longer- you are to come back to Asgard for punishment."

"What?" Loki whispered in looming fear, taking another step away as Thor reached to grab him by the wrist.

Clint was suddenly between the two gods, shoving Thor's hand away, angry and loud. "Whoa hey! He's not going anywhere, man."

"Hawkeye, you are hereby relieved of your burden," Thor told him sternly. "Loki will be brought home and another punishment laid upon him."

"He is home," Clint countered, standing tall as he could and leaning slightly against Loki's front in a protective stance. "He stays here. What the fuck is going on?"

"Are you not aware that he has killed again under your care- Where is your head?"

"I was standing right next to him when he killed those guys. Where the hell is _your_ head? Where are you getting your fucking intel?"

Thor was dumbstruck, straightening his back and looking down as he thought. Loki knew this gesture as a sign of Thor questioning himself and he pounced on the opening.

"I'm working for SHIELD now. They ordered us to kill. Would you still have me thrown in the dungeons for following orders? What would Odin say?"

"You're working with SHIELD?" Thor asked hopefully. He looked to Clint for confirmation and got it, enthusiastically. "I had no idea that they would take you..." he stammered.

"Apparently the Guardian hasn't informed you of all the details," Loki snipped, becoming indignant and more confident as Thor calmed. "He rather despises me, you know. I'm sure he was withholding to see me suffer at your hand. He manipulated you."

"Yeah, you'd know all about that, wouldn't you?" Clint snarked to keep Loki from getting too high on himself.

"You're not helping."

Thor's anger was abating, collecting his thoughts and the tension was broken, not to happy levels but a little more civilized. "I'm sure Heimdall couldn't know everything that has passed here- he has other duties." Thor would always trust Heimdall and it irked Loki.

Considering Clint and Loki's sordid relationship, the two were glad if the Watchman hadn't seen them together. And if he had, just as grateful he hadn't filled Thor in. Clint didn't want to try and explain to the judge why the guard had taken up with the prisoner.

"Well now that your conscience is clear," Loki sneered, "You may take your leave- Asgard could be under attack at this very moment and its King has abandoned his post."

Thor set his hammer down and waved away Loki's suggestion. "I needn't leave so soon, in the morning perhaps. You can regale me with your exploits in SHIELD."

Loki scoffed and rolled his eyes as he turned away, throwing himself onto the couch and turning on the TV. Clint cleared his throat and patted Thor on the arm on his way into the kitchen, asking if the gods wanted something to drink. Loki declined and Thor was happy with anything, so he was handed a beer and Clint had one for himself. He hunkered on the floor, leaning against the end-table by Loki's feet and sipping on his alcohol while Loki flipped channels angrily. Thor looked around the living room curiously from his spot on the couch next to Loki. Loki tried not to touch any part of the other god, squishing himself against the arm of the couch.

"Why are you stowing away your possessions?"

Loki sighed irritably and settled on a show, letting Clint answer. They were his things after all.

"We're moving to a new place- keep getting break-ins here."

Thor seemed to catch the hint and his face fell, sheepishly looking back at the door still lopsided in its frame, but closed. "Ah, I'm sorry my friend. I was quite angry, I thought-"

"Yeah, I know, don't worry about it. Like I said: we're moving anyway."

Thor hummed and nodded, downing his beer in large gulps. Loki remained silent and annoyed while he watched a documentary, letting Thor and Clint talk about him as if he weren't there. The blond god wanted to know how well Clint thought the rehabilitation was going and Clint answered as honestly as he could, but that in itself wasn't much. He couldn't tell him their plans, couldn't say that Loki would never be rehabilitated in the way Thor hoped. But he didn't make the trickster sound like an angel during the process either. He noted their fights, how Loki viewed humans in general, but also how humans treated him in turn. SHIELD agents were suspicious and wary, while civilians tended to be charmed and friendly. He went on to elaborate that he didn't think Loki was acting or manipulating the regular people for them to be so taken with him- it was his natural disposition to be curious and lost, and to outsiders it was adorable.

Clint remembered an instance in the library when Loki was accosted by a tiny girl, holding up a little red book and asking in a tiny voice if he would read it to her. Loki had looked around the vicinity for any other adults, finding only a couple old people and one library worker, and tried to nicely decline. It didn't work and he found himself sitting in a giant squishy beanbag chair in a corner with the girl in his lap while he read the book aloud. By the time Clint had found him, several other children had gathered around the god with other books, listening intently. Loki looked at him pleadingly, begging silently to get him out of the situation but Clint sat down outside the circle of kids and waited. When the book was finished and the kids started clamoring for another book, Clint finally spoke up, saying he was sorry to have to take Loki home. They were saddened but a mother came up to Loki and thanked him for keeping her daughter quiet and calm while she was elsewhere. She looked strung-out. When she actually rushed to hug him, Loki was shocked and squeamish but let her finish until she thanked him again and went to gather her little girl. Clint had just laughed at him and took him home while Loki made him promise to never leave him alone in the library again. Served him right for being in the children's section.

The temporary king seemed pleased by the report, gazing softly at Loki with a gentle smile on his face. Loki pointedly ignored him though he could feel the stare. When Clint yawned, his body finally giving him the sign that it was time for bed, Thor apologized for keeping them up so late. The sun would barely begin to rise. Clint gave his apologies no mind, too tired to care and just wanting to get some sleep, and he thoughtlessly asked if the god was going to bunk over. The scornful glare Loki leveled on the archer made him wince, realizing too late that of course Loki wouldn't want Thor to stay the night, and of course Thor would accept the offer. There would be no usual routine for the pair that night as they couldn't let Thor in on their relationship. In all honesty, apart from the initial shock and explanation, there really wasn't a reason why he shouldn't know- nearly all the Avengers knew, but it was something that Clint thought Loki would like kept private.

Awkwardly Clint said goodnight to the gods in his living room, Loki on the couch with a blanket for the first time in a long time, and Thor content with a pillow on the floor. He left them in the dark and climbed into bed, leaving his door open. He felt strange being alone in bed, not a single night went by without the wayward god sleeping beside him, and knowing he was out there on the couch seemed wrong. He tossed and turned, feeling tired and almost drifting off but Loki's absence was making it difficult. Half-asleep, he didn't know how long he'd been trying, he thought he heard a gentle click of the door shutting, and then the bed dipped at his feet. Blearily he blinked as he was turned onto his back, Loki suddenly looming over him and shoving the blankets down roughly.

"Wha- Loki, what are you doing?" Clint whispered.

The god gripped Clint's limp cock through his shorts and leaned down to hiss in his face, "You had better be hard in less than two minutes or you will be the one taking it tonight!" He squeezed him warningly and Clint had to still his hand with a pained grunt.

"Okay, okay! Shit. Just- Jesus, let me do it." He pushed Loki's hand away and cradled his crotch for a second while the god shimmied off his silk pajama bottoms, reaching into the bedside table for the bottle of lubricant.

With the knowledge that Thor was on the other side of the door, hopefully asleep, Clint worked himself hard, thinking he could've done it faster had a gun been put to his head. Watching Loki lube his insides helped, but his rough and angry attitude threw him off. He could barely see him in the dark, only the screen of his phone throwing pale light along their sides, but it was enough to see the gods hard length jutting out next to his, sleep shirt being unbuttoned as he heated up. Loki slathered Clint's cock with the remnants of lube on his fingers, telling him in a condescending whisper,

"Good boy."

And then he moved to sit on the offered length, breathing a sigh as it filled him. Clint swallowed hard and grabbed the god's boney hips, taking deep breaths as Loki's ass met the tops of his thighs in one move. With his hands braced on the archer's chest, Loki began to move, taking Clint's cock in and out of himself, eyes closed in an expression of frustrated concentration. It wasn't a fast encounter, more forced and hard, and it left Clint feeling confused but damn if he was going to deny Loki a fuck.

The god quietly commanded him not to move, forcing Clint to lie back and let himself be ridden, and he wasn't going to complain, he had just never seen the god take control like this. Loki had never really wanted to, but with the appearance of Thor- the way he made Loki feel powerless in his presence, Loki had to assert his dominance over something- someone. He rode Clint slow and hard, shirt open and head hanging down over Clint's, his hair waving back and forth around them. He huffed small breaths over Clint's face, determined to take everything he could from his lover and know that it was his to take.

Clint could see how hard Loki was concentrating, mechanical rows of his hips not stuttering or quickening for the slightest pleasure, and while Clint was feeling good and maybe Loki was a little, he knew this wouldn't end well. His hands slipped onto the gods thighs and up to his hips, pulling him down to slow.

"Stop babe," he whispered, and Loki's eyes opened to glare down at him. "You don't have to prove anything to anyone- it's just us."

Loki's nostrils flared. "And what would you have me do? Give up? Admit that I can't do it?"

"What? No. No, I'm saying if we're gonna do it then fucking enjoy it!" Clint found that it was hard to keep his voice down when he wanted to shout but he made it work. "I don't know what the hell's going through your head right now but it ain't us fucking. Babe-" he smoothed his hands down Loki's thighs in an attempt to calm him down. "I don't want sex to be work, okay? I want you to ride my dick and fucking love it."

Clint's last words surprised a chuckle out of the god and he dropped his head onto Clint's collar, sighing hard.

"I'm sorry."

Clint threaded his fingers into Loki's hair, rubbing his scalp. "It's okay, I could just tell you weren't having fun. You're not gonna come acting like that and then you'd've just been pissed off."

Loki huffed again, knowing Clint was right but he didn't want to say so.

"So you wanna try that again? Gotta say though- I'm flagging a little; you'll have to work me up."

Loki chuckled lowly and hummed, "I think I can take care of that." He turned the archer's face towards his and closed their lips together, rocking his hips slowly to pull on his length.

Clint breathed hard through his nose as he kissed the god, running his hands down from Loki's hair and over his back to cup his ass and pull him further off his cock to let him fall on it again. The god was fidgeting with something in the bedside table, but Clint couldn't care enough to make himself look, too happy to nibble on Loki's lips and thrust into his ass. When something pointed suddenly dragged up his abdomen though, his eyes flew open, too shocked to do anything but stare into Loki's mischievous glinting eyes and feel the dagger trail up and over his chest. Loki put the point under Clint's jaw, pushing gently and smiling with his teeth.

"Hard enough yet?" he growled.

"Oh yeah."

"Good."

Loki flicked the knife away from Clint's throat, still gripping it tightly in one fist as he sat up tall, taking the archer into himself fully and smirking down at him. He began slowly, barely lifting himself off to tease the blond, letting the fingers of his free hand trail along his belly by the fingertips. The dagger he let skip over his thigh and onto Clint's abs, skating the point along his skin dangerously again. He knew how turned on it made the archer and it urged him to push up and meet Loki's ass on every fall, making him move faster and pull off longer on his cock. The pace soon tired the gods muscles- his thighs quaking from lifting himself. He curled over Clint's body, panting quietly in his ear but still gently being moved over the length as he rested.

Clint took the dagger from him and put it on the nightstand, turning the god's face towards his to kiss again, still rolling his hips into him. They kissed messily, tongues sliding by each other and smacking wet noises in the silent apartment. Clint ran his hands under the god's shirt, rubbing up his back again and then down to his butt to grip his cheeks and pull. Loki hummed into Clint's mouth at the movement and broke away, steadying his arms beside the blond's neck and touching their foreheads.

"Faster," he whispered and Clint wasted no time, spreading his cheeks to piston into him silently. He panted quietly as he could over the archer, reaching his peak in a few moments and dragging Clint's with him as they groaned into each others mouths. They let their heartbeats settle, listening for any sign of the god in the living room rustling around, but the place was quiet.

Loki pecked quick kisses along Clint's neck and sighed. "I suppose I should go back to my couch before he awakes."

"I'm sorry, Lo, I wasn't thinking when I asked if he was gonna stay. Should've known he'd say yes."

Loki got up and fumbled around in the dark for his discarded pants. "It's alright- I've had my fun with you, and maybe in the morning when Thor leaves I'll let you have me on the kitchen counter."

"Fucking insatiable," Clint griped playfully, wiggling his shorts back up and under the covers again. Loki just chuckled as he buttoned up his sleep shirt and slipped out of the room.

A couple hours later, Clint woke up to the powerful groans of Thor, happily praising how well he slept on the 'cushioned' floor. The archer wondered if the god honestly felt that way because maybe Asgard didn't have carpet, or if he was just being nice. Too nice. Clint was too tired for nice. He rolled onto his back and blinked at the ceiling, his eyelids not wanting to open after each close. In the living room while Thor was making merry, Loki's voice hissed.

"Can't you rise silently?! There are others sleeping in this house." Through the door came a muffled _whump_ sound- Loki throwing his pillow at the other god. Thor chuckled playfully at the gesture.

Clint sighed and got up, getting dressed while still half-asleep, tripping himself in his own jeans. It was quiet out in the living room again when he started out, but when he heard Thor's voice in a low confidential tone he stopped at the end of the hall and listened. The burly, tanned god stood close to Loki, trying hard to not look menacing.

"-make you happy?"

Loki kept a straight face as he looked at his brother. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"He's not simply watching over you. You sleep with him."

"You saw me wake up on the couch just now, did you not?" Loki scoffed.

"And yet you sneak into his chambers in the dead of night. I was awake, Loki, I heard your whispers."

Even caught in his own lie, Loki wouldn't lose face, taking a breath and sniffing. "It is none of your concern."

"Brother," Thor implored, hands reaching out to hold Loki by the shoulders though Loki moved away from him. "If he makes you happy then I am pleased as well! He's a fine warrior to have as your own. He can help you."

"Help me? You still believe I can be changed! Exiling me to a planet of lesser beings cannot make me a light-hearted and contented sap-"

"But you _are_ with Hawkeye."

Loki twitched his head to look down his nose, squinting at the god with simmering anger. "I cannot be changed; I cannot be- calmed. Mother said I was a storm in soul- a force of nature, and she is right. But a storm won't be controlled- only directed by the right winds."

Thor watched Loki curiously but silently and Loki sighed through his nose at him.

"Take your leave of us," he said calmly. "Your very presence tires me."

Still listening and watching at the end of the hall, Clint met Loki's eyes over Thor's shoulder but he made no expression. The Thunder god bowed out gracefully, asking his brother to give his thanks to Clint for his hospitality and then leaving through the busted front door.

"So I take it Thor knows. How are we so bad at keeping a secret?"

"He thinks he knows," Loki grunted, falling back onto the couch.

"Yeah, I noticed you did the 'neither confirm nor deny' thing."

"It's none of his business."

Clint hummed noncommittally at that and then turned when he heard his phone beep from his bedroom. He checked it and then sighed in exasperation, yelling through the apartment to the god, "Get dressed! Fury wants to see us." He chuckled at the similar sigh he heard from the god and moved to finish dressing.

"Must we? Would I be reprimanded if I went in my pajamas?"

"Would you give a shit even if you were?"

Loki scoffed and came into the bedroom. "No, of course not. But I suppose it would be uncomfortable to ride in my sleep clothes." He started picking out his clothes for the day slowly.

"You didn't have a problem riding in your pj's last night."

"Oh, you're naughty."


	22. Space Lion

On the drive to headquarters, Clint felt a little spur-of-the-moment and stopped at a small coffee house. It was quiet and nondescript; Clint considered it plain-jane and liked it, though he liked the hipster atmosphere that a regular Starbucks had too. He had told Loki that he felt like making Fury wait on them. The Director hated it when he called an immediate meeting and someone showed up with coffee. Loki opted for tea, perusing the selection and being intrigued by the names. He picked one and loaded it with sugar, getting the barista to put a little whipped cream on top.

Sure enough when the two entered Fury's spacious office, the Director zeroed in on their take-out cups, his one eye telling them he wasn't amused. Clint tried to hold in his snicker but still made a little noise. It was the serious look on Natasha's face, who was sitting on the couch along the windows, that warned Clint this meeting was serious and he sobered up, glancing between the two curiously.

"Something happen since four hours ago?"

Natasha rose and stood beside Fury's large L-shaped desk, touching her fingertips on one hand to it and giving the Director a quick look. Fury cleared his throat and nodded his head to her, allowing her to deliver the news:

"You have to leave New York."

"Oh!" Clint sighed theatrically, though he was actually relieved and even wiped his brow of non-existent sweat. "I thought it was gonna be something serious like- my mom died or something. But you know, this is perfect timing, we've already packed up most of our shit."

Natasha's brow twitched almost imperceptibly. "Why?"

"Moving apartments, man. Had another break-in last night-"

"This morning," Loki corrected gently.

"Right- this morning. Had to jimmy my damn door shut with a freaking steering wheel lock bar!"

Loki rolled his eyes and huffed about the inconvenience, taking the moment to sit on the couch with his sweet tea. Clint joined him, sitting far enough away that only their knees touched as they spread their legs and got comfortable. Clint rubbed his face with one and and groaned, tired and frustrated.

"Fucking Thor," he grunted.

"Well, good." Black Widow agreed, moving on. "You need to leave the area quickly, by tomorrow if possible."

"Why so soon? What happened?"

"Someone is after you, like we thought, and they _are_ in SHIELD like I thought. But it's bigger than we expected." Natasha's face was grave, and Fury's didn't look that much better. Concerned is actually an extreme expression for the Director, Clint noticed over the years. When he looked worried, it meant shit got real.

"You finger someone already?" While the situation was a serious one, Clint still remained calm, sipping his coffee. If Natasha and Fury were on top of it, he had nothing to worry about.

"A few people, actually, but we're waiting to make the move- we haven't found the leader yet."

Clint nodded his head in understanding and hummed. He clicked his tongue and tried to sound as casual and non-accusatory as he could. "You check out Sitwell?"

Fury sighed and leaned back in his rolling chair. "Agent Sitwell has nothing to do with it, most likely."

"Most likely- meaning Nat hasn't cleared him. He's a suspicious little punk! You know, I've actually got a question for you, sir." Clint sat forward angrily, the paper coffee cup dangling from one hand by the lid. "Did my neighbor ever say Prophet's name during interviews or debriefs?"

Fury didn't look away from Clint's gaze. "No."

"Did I tell you, or Loki?"

"No."

"Well, Sitwell came to Stark Tower after that meeting Tony walked out on, and he asked about Prophet- saying you sent him to question me. Used his name and all. Did you send him?"

That look of worry cropped up on Fury's face again and Natasha looked back at him, awaiting an answer. Clint spoke again before he could; the exchange of expressions already telling the archer what the answer was.

"I don't think he's shady just because I'm paranoid. The dude is weird."

"Then the request still stands that you need to get out of New York before we start taking people in."

Clint sighed and got up, tapping Loki's knee as he did. "Any particular place you want us?"

"Far away," Fury chimed in. "Stay in the country but let's keep it between us; don't tell anyone where you've chosen to go. For all intents and purposes you're grounded, on vacation, I don't care. Hopefully by you up and leaving, the culprits will be in a panic and we can weed them out easier."

"You hear that, Lo- stay in the country."

The god hummed and withheld a smirk. "For now."

Clint snickered at him, wearing his own smirk.

Natasha began to chastise him, "Clint-" and the archer raised his hands in surrender.

"I'm taking it seriously- really, I am. We'll get gone." He started to lead Loki to the door when he stopped short and turned around. "You know, every time you call a meeting it's to tell me one thing. You could just call me. Now we gotta go all the way home just to keep packing."

Fury glared at the archer and told him to get lost, which Clint responded to with a lazy salute as they walked out. He elbowed Loki for silent attention and started away for him to follow, leading him to an empty conference room. Inside, he leaned against the wall just by the door. Loki preferred to stand nearby.

"Where will we go? This puts our plans on hold for an indeterminate amount of time."

"Fury said to stay in country, so we stay in country. We can't leave yet anyway- we still don't have your papers." Clint scratched the stubble along his jaw and groaned. "Dunno how long we need to be gone- camping would be a bad plan. We'd be off the grid, but we need to be able to contact Nat or Fury if shit hits the fan. And I don't think you want to be spending the next- month in a tent with me, Mr. Are-these-your-only-rooms."

They both chuckled at the memory of Loki wandering Clint's tiny apartment.

"So, we'll go on vacation… Somewhere fancy… Ever been to the beach?"

"On Earth? No."

Clint fished his phone out of his pocket and searched through his contacts with a smile on his face. He put the phone to his ear and waited, Loki watching him curiously. When the other end was answered, Clint's face brightened up a bit.

"Hey man, I have a problem. Fury's telling Loki and I to skip town and get out of sight… Yeah. Well, I'm calling because- Dude would you shut up and let me talk? Are you using your Malibu house? Why do you think? Couple weeks… No, we're not gonna fuck on your couch- well wait, Loki's shaking his head- don't think we can promise anything." He covered the microphone with his thumb and laughed with the god, shaking his head. "He's losing his shit!" He uncovered the mic again. "Yeah, you'll have to have Jarvis filter the feed he sends you, but we'll keep the place clean… Okay… Right… Yeah, yeah, but here's the thing: no one can know we're there. None of the team except you and Jar- no. No, not even Fury knows. Alright. Thanks, man." He terminated the call and sighed. "So we know where we're going, now we gotta decide how to get there."

"And where is this 'Malibu house'?"

"California. Other side of the country."

Clint pushed off the wall to sit at the conference table, setting his coffee down with a light tap and he pulled up a map of the United States to show the god as he joined him. He pointed to the Nevada base where Loki first appeared on Earth, to the makeshift lab in the northwest, and where they were in New York. He laid out the distance from Tony Stark's mansion in California from New York and shrugged.

"We could fly there, but a last minute flight to Cali will be crazy expensive and we'd leave a trail from here to there. And then what about my bike? I'm not gonna leave it here."

The door to the room swished open and both Clint and Loki turned to see the intruder. A skinny girl with her wavy locks framing her face carried a stack of papers and she nearly dropped them all at the grumpy looks the two gave her. She went red in the face and bowed out of the room, stammering apologies until the door automatically shut her out. Without missing a beat they looked away and continued their conversation as though the interruption hadn't occurred.

"I mean, we could drive there on the bike, like a road trip. Take about a week… We could sight-see and stuff. Just take all our cash." Clint hummed and considered it further in his own head. "Would you wanna do that? Ride across the country; learn stuff?"

"Where else do I have to be?"

* * *

They packed up the rest of the apartment, leaving out a few things they would need for the trip, and then Clint called a service to pick up the boxes that night. They sat on the couch limply, tired from the long night and day. Clint still cursed at Thor for waking them up so early.

He had a laminated map unfolded over their legs, a marker ready to plot their course from New York to California. Loki had insisted on using a physical map- one that he could easily use and understand, but Clint ended up agreeing on the thought that they could lose service on his phone or the charge would be too low and then they'd have to stop for a map anyway. He wasn't sure if LUCIA would be able to chart the roads they wanted to take without reading them all to her and telling her at what sights they needed to stop. With one red marker, Clint circled points of interest along the southern half of the country and then a black marker traced the paths of secondary roads and scenic routes along the sights.

Loki got up to look through the pouches of the saddlebags they bought for the bike, judging what was going to go where in the allotted spaces. There was a small duffel bag too, firm leather and cylindrical which would strap onto the bike or to Loki himself for more supplies as they traveled. Clint had pulled out half of his bank accounts worth of cash and would withdraw the rest the next day before they left.

The kitchen window was open, and Imelda was back: jazz tinkled through the apartment with a slow and melancholy saxophone, sounding inexplicably far away. Something to listen to in a space-shuttle as you watched Earth from a far orbit. Clint let his head fall back and his eyes close, sighing quietly while he listened. Loki looked up at him from the floor and smiled, turning back to his packing. The archer was going to miss that. He knew for sure.

When he moved into the apartment, the first thing he did was open the window, letting out the dusty air that just never seemed to leave. There was no music then, just another open window across the way with the curtains wafting in the slightest breeze. That first night, just as dusk was setting in, came the jazz. It was never too jaunty or happy, never swing or big band, just something calming and somehow introspective in itself. Clint was still unpacking his meager belongings and picking a location for the couch when he heard it, and it made him stop everything for a moment, long enough for him to follow the music to the window and simply listen. He never understood how it had that effect on him- he hadn't listened to much jazz in any form, R&B being the closest he came to it. But this... He could love this.

Some nights the jazz wouldn't play, but his window stayed open just in case. Other times the tunes would start sometime during the day and play until nightfall, and Clint ended up by the window to hear it all. One evening found him with a folder of papers and pen, marking up a report for SHIELD while he sat on the kitchen counter, legs over the sink to brace his boots on the edge. He leaned his shoulder against the windowsill and jotted away, not noticing the woman coming to the window across the alley and smiling at him.

"Getting sentimental, darling?"

Clint smiled and lifted his head to continue on the map. "Just gonna miss this. Never liked any of the apartments. I just felt... Alone all the time. Here I knew I had someone keeping an eye out for me, even if it was a civie. Then I met you. Couldn't be alone if I tried now." He chuckled at his last remark, letting Loki know that he didn't want to be alone, he was just pointing out the joke.

There was a knock at the door, which was hanging open, lopsided. Clint assumed that he would tell the landlord and have him bill SHIELD for the repairs. It would be sure to give Hill a stroke. Clint peeked over the back of the couch as a man eyed the door and busted frame warily while he entered. Clint was instantly pleased to see the man in his baggy khakis and button up shirt, open except for the top button. He greeted him warmly.

"Hey! Welcome to _mi casa_."

"You always got a fucked up house, _esé_ ," the guy said, finally looking away from the door.

"Yeah, I get into a lot of fights. You got something for me?"

The cholo held out a folder to Clint and made eye contact with Loki as the offering was taken from him. He nodded at the god. "You that new guy _la Diosa_ is talkin' about?"

Clint opened the packet and checked the contents while Loki hummed at the question.

"If you mean 'god' then yes, but I am far from new. I dare say Madam Rosario is the 'new guy' in this instance."

"She said you'd be _pinchazo quisquilloso_."

Loki had started to stiffen at the insult, ready to get ugly with him, but Clint reeled him in with a simple low call of his name. Loki huffed and turned away, and the guy looked back at Clint with a small smirk.

"Everything there?"

"Yeah, it looks good. Tell Rosa thanks for me. She won't be hearing from us again. Couple beers in the fridge if you want 'em."

The visitor hummed with interest and disappeared into the kitchen, rattling around in the refrigerator and snapping the cap off of one of the drinks. He headed out the door carefully with three beers in hand.

" _Gracias_ , homes," he said as he left.

" _De nada_." And then they were alone again. Clint held out a crisp passport to Loki with a grin. "Check it out- you're now Elijah Bryce Kelly- the six-foot-eight, black haired, green eyed hottie from America. Make sure you memorize all the specs in there about you."

The god opened the front cover and was met with a picture of his own face with his new name beside it. "Will you be calling me by this name now? Will I have to call you..."

"Kyle? Nah. Only if we're talking to people who only know us by those names. Officials and shit. You're still Loki to me. Let's see-" he sifted through the files in the folder and pulled them out as he named them, handing them to the god. "Here's your social security card- also memorize that number. And your birth certificate... driver's license..."

Loki inspected it all carefully, learning every bit of info on this new life that was assigned to him. "Seattle, Washington. Why was I born there?"

"Why is anyone born anywhere? I was born in Niger because my parents were on a safari vacation. Doesn't really have anything to do with who you are. I'm still an American, raised the American way. Nat was born and raised in Russia, now she's an American citizen. I think. You know, I knew this kid in school who was born in Germany- military parents stationed there. Don't know how many times that girl was asked if she was a Nazi."

Loki had read enough history books to know what that was. "Was she?"

"No. Not at all. That question just shows how ignorant people can be. It insinuates that all Germans are Nazis, which isn't true. And not all Nazis are German."

Loki hummed at the thought. "Did you pick a birthplace at random then?"

Clint's face reddened and he looked away, back into the empty folder with which he fidgeted. Loki squinted at him suspiciously.

"You didn't." And he sat there on the floor and thought about the significance of the location, staring at the words on his driver's license before he realized. "The base. Our base, where I kept the Tesseract."

Clint pursed his lips sheepishly. "Our marriage license is from Seattle too."

"You are a shameless romantic."

"Oh come on! It was where we were together most of the time. And... I loved you there. I hated you at the same time, but it's different now. I can say it now."

Loki had a small smile on his lips, one that said he was trying not to smile, trying not to show Clint how happy he was.

"I know you didn't love me back then," Clint continued solemnly, looking down at the map so he wouldn't have to see Loki's face. "You were running an invasion, trying to take over the world. There's no time to think about shit like that."

"You're right- I didn't. I trusted you to do your job as my commander. I trusted your need to work and to kill. I lorded over you and the others as gently as I could though, because the Tesseract made you trust me too. It wouldn't do ti break your trust or make you resent me while we worked- you could still hate me even under the Tesseract's draw. You could eventually work against me. Look at Dr. Selvig.

"I did think of you often though. Especially after my interaction with the Widow in the flying fortress. I thought of you in my cell in Asgard. I feared almost, what you would do to me when I was placed in your care."

This made Clint look up at him in surprise. "Really?"

Loki nodded and packed things away in the saddlebags. "I had no idea what happened to you after Thor and I left Midgard. You seemed alright when you and the Avengers saw us off- that cocky smirk on your face... I imagined that you would take your revenge on me with chains and humiliation, arrow-tips and pain."

"You weren't all wrong."

"No, I wasn't." Loki looked at the scar on the back of his left hand, dead center, and he didn't have to look to know there was a matching scar on his palm.

Clint sighed hard and capped his marker, letting it roll down the map and into his lap. "I wasn't in a bad place after the Tesseract; I wasn't all straight though either. I was a little lost, a little angry... kinda confused because I couldn't sort out my feelings, not with the environment SHIELD had me in. I couldn't say I missed the Tesseract because I'd be a liability. Couldn't say I liked you because I'd be a traitor. But I also wanted to just hate-fuck you all night long, heh. I think my problem was that I did the same kind of work for you and SHIELD, but SHIELD makes me write reports, justify my actions; makes me take psych. evals. and if I don't pass then, for some reason, I'm not allowed to kill people anymore. Doesn't make any sense. With you, I just tell you what I want, or you tell me, and we make it happen. We're a partnership, not a business transaction."

"Indeed," Loki agreed with a smile.

The movers came to collect the boxes, and they gave the broken door the same slightly-frightened look the Mexican gangster had; sidestepping into the apartment cautiously. Clint and Loki packed up the rest of the extra stuff and handed it off to the movers. The coordinator verified the address the packages were to sent, a little wowed that they were moving to Europe. Clint played it off like it was no big deal and didn't give him any details. The movers emptied out the apartment but for the couch and the bed and then left Clint and Loki standing in the echoing living room with the saddlebags. The bed was just a mattress on a frame, no pillows, and Loki stared at it sadly.

"Where will we sleep tonight?"

Clint groaned and clapped a hand onto his cheek tiredly. "Fuck. I forgot. Ready to leave I guess. Uh... They have a room for me at headquarters. We can go there if you want."

"Under SHIELD's roof? Where will I sleep?"

"With me, fuck it. It's our last day dicking around with them, who gives a fuck if someone notices."

"Don't get careless just because we're so close," Loki warned.

"I'm not, it's just- if they haven't figured it out by now then they're blind. Even Steve picked up on us."

Loki debated this in his head, but eventually relented, albeit reluctantly. He was wary of the outcomes but he would trust Clint to get them out of any trouble. They went to headquarters later in the day, and the sun hadn't even begun to set before they made their way to Clint's room.

Down quiet, empty halls which numbered the dorms like a hotel they stumbled, exhausted. Clint typed in his code on the keypad beside his door ad the green light and click of the lock let them know it worked. They stepped in and Loki closed the door behind them, listening to the automatic lock click back into place. Clint had flicked the light on and let Loki see the room, and the god felt even more restrained by the tiny size. No windows and the walls painted dark grey, Loki felt like this would be a worse cell to live in than his cell in Asgard. It was barren of any personal touches, just a simple bed with grey and white sheets and pillows; a small bed table and lamp; a recliner in the corner, still grey. Loki grimaced at it all disdainfully while Clint started pulling off his clothes.

"This is considered SHIELD hospitality? A plain, windowless box with not even a bathroom?"

"Yep, gotta get everything else yourself. Bathroom's down the hall. I haven't stayed here much."

"I can see why."

"Yeah, well, I had my own place anyway." Clint climbed under the covers, groaning gratefully. "Coming to bed, babe?"

Loki undressed and flicked the light off before crawling into the bed as well, feeling cramped in the regular size versus the queen Clint had in the apartment. He lie flat on his back and let Clint fling an arm over his chest, moaning happily as he rubbed his face against Loki's shoulder. Loki sighed.

"What's wrong, Lo? You getting cold feet?"

The god chuckled gently at that, having read and watched enough to know what it meant.

"Traveling made Phil nervous. Had to stop every sixty miles so he could get out of the car. Had to shit a lot too- IBS. You can imagine how he was on planes. You nervous?"

"No, I'm just ready to be gone."

"I know. Faster we get to sleep, faster morning will come. Few weeks driving around and chilling at the beach, get Fury off our backs about Prophet and shit, then we're golden."

Loki grunted and nodded, though Clint wouldn't see it in the dark.

"It'll be over faster than you think." Clint nuzzled closer and wrapped his leg around one of Loki's. "Love you," he murmured.

"I love you too."

* * *

Not sure if I've said anything during this entire time posting, so... hey. Story's almost finished, if you were wondering. Few more chapters and that'll be it. Nanowrimo is coming and I want to be done with this by the starting day so I can focus on my own book.

Questions from me: Are you guys liking this at all? Is it very slow with all the plot moving and action crap I had to do? I've never written action stuff before, I just kinda winged it. I usually just read Fanfics for the sex, and I know I've been skimping or writing strange moody sex scenes. Next chapter starts with sex so... I just ruined the surprise, I'm sorry. Well now at least you'll be looking forward to it.


	23. All These Things That I've Done

Clint wasn't sure how long they'd slept- he felt more rested than yesterday and he had to peel his cheek away wetly from his pillow, so he knew he'd slept hard, but there were no windows in his room. It was perpetually dark. He groaned and rubbed his nose against Loki's back, fumbling behind him to find his phone and check the time, barely illuminating the area with the light. It was early, before dawn even, but they had gone to bed just as early too.

He dropped the phone back onto the nightstand and groaned again, starting to stretch and wake up, and he rubbed a hand up and down Loki's side before wrapping it around him. The god breathed deeply as he awoke with Clint's touch and turned under his arm, shifting close to press his face into Clint's neck. He tucked one leg in between Clint's and used his weight to push him onto his back, thigh pressed into the apex of Clint's legs and suddenly very awake, breathing in the archers scent. Clint was already getting hard, running his hands under the god's sleep shirt to feel the smooth skin. Loki had moved in for a kiss and Clint held him there, fingers in his hair holding him hard, as Loki pushed his own pants off and then moved for Clint's shorts.

With their bodies exposed, Loki laid himself on Clint and rocked against him, running their hardening lengths together in a dry drag of skin. He broke the kiss when Clint pulled him away by the hair, and he flushed hotly when two fingers were pressed against his lip, embarrassed and turned on at the same time to let them slip into his mouth and rest against his tongue. He knew his task and sucked around them gently, wetting them and giving Clint a tease with a flick of his tongue to the skin that connected them. When the digits retreated, Clint pulled Loki's mouth to his again and pressed his wet fingers over Loki's opening, circling before dipping in playfully. Loki almost whimpered, grabbing the teasing hand to push Clint's fingers deeper, and the archer took the hint, beginning to pump them into him while he nipped at Loki's jaw.

"Want it?" Clint panted. "I didn't bring the lube."

Loki didn't answer with words, panting as he slid down the archers body, bending over him and grabbing Clint's erection with a gentle, preparatory squeeze. He lowered his mouth to it and licked at the head before dropping his jaw and taking in its entirety, just keeping it from bumping the back of his throat. Clint lifted his head to watch his cock disappear into Loki's mouth, and the sight and sensation had him groaning, dropping his head back onto the pillow. Loki gave him one final suck, letting the length of his tongue slide off in one wet lick before setting up on his knees to put Clint's erection between his legs. Clint held onto the gods hips and guided him down with Loki holding the length up until it touched his entrance, and then sitting as it pushed into him. Clint's hips jerked up to meet him, making the god gasp at the sudden fullness and let his head fall back.

Clint sat up suddenly, wrapping his arms around the god and mouthing at his chest, soothing the bites he gave with laps of his tongue. Loki buried his fingers in Clint's hair and rode him slowly, breathing through his nose in attempts to get it under control, but it couldn't be helped when he sat down hard over the archer's cock. The movement seemed to spur Clint on as well, tipping Loki back and laying him on the bed, legs around his waist and head hanging over the edge. He began to slide into the god himself, holding him by the top of his hips and letting Loki grab onto his shoulders as he panted.

"Can we be heard from out there?" Loki asked breathlessly.

The question made Clint shiver, hips stuttering a little and humming in anticipation. "Let me hear it," he groaned in answer. "Like what I do to you, baby?"

Loki's eyes slid closed and he sighed. "Oh, yes..." He tightened his legs around him and moaned, "Mmm-more... Faster."

Even as Clint immediately obeyed, Loki was voicelessly whispering his command over and over until it petered out into nothing but moans, both his and Clint's pants mingling together. Loki's sounds turned Clint on more than he imagined, spurred on to push into him at a frenzied pace.

"Harder, Clint," the god whispered. Loki was lost in this, eyes closed and body loose but still working to hold himself around the archer; he got everything he wanted when he was with Clint, all he had to do was ask for it. He swept his hand up to his forehead, smoothing his hair back in an unconscious gesture as he moaned again when the motions became brutal, rocking his whole body with the force of Clint's thrusts. His mouth fell open to release shameless pants and moans as the archer pushed them out of him.

"Shit- you love this," Clint panted, starting to sweat with the pace. "Tell me, baby. Say how much you love it."

Loki sighed, completely pleased with his position, and almost too far gone to answer his lover. But not quite. He moaned and dragged his nails down Clint's shoulders and chest.

"I- I love it! I love it. Ohhh- please, more."

Clint was pounding into him, hard and fast enough that he could barely catch his breath, and Loki's words helped him no amount- feeling his length twitch with the demands.

"Want this cock? Fucking you blind, baby? Shit- you're so fucking hot..."

"Oh Clint. Please-"

"Want me to make you come-"

"Yes! Yes, yes-"

"Make you come on my cock- Fuck!" Clint was losing it, shoving erratically into the god and finding he just couldn't go hard enough. He loved every word out of Loki's mouth, blood draining into his length and making him dizzy, and he could tell his own cliched dirty talk was fueling Loki's ecstasy. Loki held onto Clint's waist, pulling the archer into him to help him along as his moans became flustered huffs. Their sounds became a litany of curses and pleas, no longer able to concentrate on talking coherently. His cock was swelling again, just minutely, and he growled as he pushed and pulled Loki over him.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he panted. "I'm gonna come! Ah, fuck-"

Clint pounded into the god until he felt a surge of heat from his balls to his cock and he groaned, slowing to push into him with slow and harsh force, making his orgasm last in long bursts. He never wanted to stop, he knew that much. He sincerely wished they could stay right there forever, on a constant orgasm until there was nothing left of them. But Loki had already told him to never say forever.

With the sound of Clint's climax, Loki's body was burning, and he wasn't sure if the room was getting warm or if he was simply too hot as he started to reach his peak. His thick length was bobbing against his belly, somehow cool to the touch and he loved the sensation. He held it hard in his hand and squeezed, letting Clint's thrusts move his hand for him, making sure to rub his thumb against the head. His other hand went to his hair again, pulling at the roots as his body tensed, pushed right to the edge of orgasm until the next thrust did him in. His breath caught in his throat when he felt the surge in his length and released it in a harsh cry as his seed pumped out of him, his entrance tightening around the archer. The hand around his shaft trembled as he squeezed and pulled, They slowed all movement to a stop, catching their heaving breaths and letting the sweat cool, spent and elated. Clint watched Loki gently pull on his softening flesh, reaching for the last vestiges of pleasure, and he wished he could get hard again just to watch Loki jerk himself off.

Loki's hand fell away to dip his fingers into the shoots of come on his belly, one pool slowly running up the center to his chest. Clint snorted at the sight, leaning down to lick at the drip as it reached Loki's rib cage.

He shuffled backwards, dragging Loki with him to pull his head back onto the bed, and he curled over him to push his fingers into the mess of black hair. He was welcomed by Loki's arms around him and a slow kiss. When he pulled away he only lay limply on the god, sighing tiredly. Loki skimmed his fingertips over a scar on Clint's back, sliding up to scratch into his short hair with a pleased and breathless hum.

"Will it be like this every morning?"

"God I hope so," Clint moaned into Loki's shoulder.

They lie there for another few minutes, enjoying the dark and calm of their private room and almost fell asleep again until Clint has to pee. They dress and go down the hall too the dormitory bathroom and wash up a little, mostly to wipe away the jizz on their fronts. They brushed their teeth side by side, Clint vigorously and Loki calm and slow. It was too early in the morning again for anyone else to be up and in the showers. At the sinks while Loki began combing his hair, Clint stared into the mirror, sometimes glancing at the god's reflection beside him. He furrowed his brows and drew Loki's gaze with his stillness. Loki waited for him to speak, seeing his concentration. Clint made his decision with a tap of finality against the edge of the sink.

"We're not coming back." He looked back at himself in the mirror with hard determination. "After all this shit is done, we'll just disappear."

"What has prompted your decision so suddenly?"

"Got a bad feeling... There's nothing for us to do here- we're just being pulled around by SHIELD and not getting shit out of it except the stuff we've stolen. I think-" Clint sighed, "I think I've gone as far as I can go here, and it's time to start something new. Something that I don't have to answer for."

Loki smiled into the mirror and nodded.

"I know we've already been planning on this and we're pretty much set. I guess I had to find the point at which I was just done with SHIELD. If we stay any longer after all this Prophet stuff, we'll just be strung along for something else and I'll feel obligated and we'll never leave. This way-"

"They are practically telling us to leave."

"Yeah."

Loki stowed his comb away in the small bag that held their toothbrushes and deodorant and toothpastes and he looked at Clint.

"Then the faster we begin this journey, the faster we can escape them."

* * *

In the parking garage, Loki strapped the saddlebags onto the back of the bike, wiggling them around to test how well they would hold in the movement of the bike, He adjusted them until he was satisfied and Clint chuckled at him. At the last minute, as they were about get on the bike, Clint turned on his heel and practically ran to the elevator, leaving Loki standing by the motorcycle, confused. He was gone for a few minutes, but when he returned, he carried his SHIELD issued bow and quiver with a smug look on his face. He raised the bow above his head as he came back to the bike.

"I want this."

Loki only chuckled and moved aside so Clint could figure out how he was going to stow it on the bike. Kneeling beside it, a tiny light flickered on the display and the machinery inside started to whir, little hooks sliding out of the side of the bike ready for the bow to be fitted in. Clint was skeptical about it but he set it into the hooks gently, hearing the insides of the bike whir again and retract the hooks to lock the bow firmly at its side.

"That Stark," he scoffed and got up, a smirk on his face.

Loki smiled and went to the other side where similar hooks waited for the quiver. He beckoned for it and Clint passed it over, letting the god hook up the arrows as well.

"I dare say you may have bedded Ironman were I not with you- he seems to know you quite well. Thinks of your needs."

Clint barked a hysterical laugh. "Bang Tony? Uh... Well, he makes work easier, but he's a fucking drama queen. It'd be a full on fight to see who took it in the ass every night!"

"Must you be on top every time?"

"Well, no." Clint shrugged and zipped up his jacket. "I just usually am."

"Do you seek out those who prefer the bottom?"

"No, they just end up happening to be those kind. Why, do you wanna switch it up?"

Loki put on his own coat and picked up his helmet. "I am merely trying to understand you sexual preferences," he said in a not-answer.

Clint noticed and squinted at the god curiously but he didn't comment on it, putting on his own helmet and climbing onto the bike. Loki settled on behind him, hands on the blond's hips. Clint kicked the bike to life and rumbled with the engine, feeling a sudden squeeze to his crotch. He looked down and saw Loki's hand retreating to settle on his hip again and he shook his head. It was going to be a long trip.

Clint drove them out of New York and through Philadelphia over the freeways, watching the sky slowly brighten with the sun rising behind them, the roads becoming clogged with the morning commuters. It was a long few hours, not quite boring or plain- the freeway was banked by large still-green trees though it was coming on to autumn, fields in every shade of pastel covered in dew. Buildings of course: they were driving through New York and Philly, Baltimore and Washington, there were structures and skyscrapers galore. Every couple hours they stopped at a convenience store to stretch and get drinks or snacks. Leaning against a wall with their leather jackets on, biking boots- one of them ate Ho-Hos with coffee, and the other ate a muffin and drank a bottled and flavored tea. They got a few strange looks.

As they went through the capital, Clint named off the monuments and they drove past the front yard of the White House. Loki had no interest in them and neither did Clint. He'd seen them all before anyway. But it was in Arlington that they stopped, Loki asking his partner what they were going to see and he was getting disturbed by Clint's silence. The archer led Loki down the white stone walkways and pillars of the National Cemetery, taking the first road leading away into its depths and thats when Loki saw the first sets of grave markers. He was confused but he stayed quiet, keeping at Clint's side. They came to a stop eventually and looked down the veritable valley of gravestones, all stark white and uniform, and Loki was almost frightened, though he kept his expression in check. Clint looked casual, hands in his coat pockets, rubbing his finger on the teeth of the motorcycle key as he looked out at the graves.

"Phil's in there," he said. "Dunno if his body is, but he's got his own headstone."

Loki was stunned that Clint would bring him here and say that- he knew Clint had no strong relationship with the late agent.

"You don't bury your dead, do you?"

The god shook his head, turning around to see the graves behind them, around them. "No, they're burned. The sheer amount of land it would take to bury all our histories dead is incomprehensible."

"There are over four-hundred thousand people buried here, and this is only one cemetery. There are thousands all over the country. All over the world."

"Why?"

Clint thought about it, shrugging. "I guess because humans want to be remembered, be mourned for. Everyone wants to leave their mark on the world, be a name in history... Sometimes a name on a slab of rock is how it happens. Most times."

They looked over the sea of white blocks from the road, other visitors, tourists, walking behind them, stopping near them to take pictures.

"Everyone who died in the invasion in here," Clint murmured. "If the families didn't want them buried somewhere else."

"I want to see him," Loki said suddenly and Clint took it in stride, leading him onto the grass of the burial grounds. He walked in a line between rows of headstones, looking straight ahead. Loki read the slabs as they went.

"There are so many 'unknown'," he mused aloud, neither to Clint nor even himself; he was in awe of the numbers. He nearly bumped into the archer when he abruptly stopped and he looked down at the bright white stone at their feet: **Phillip J. Coulson** , his birth and death date under it.

"You think Thor or Odin or whoever is watching? Maybe they'll think you're being repentant."

Loki was staring don at Coulson's headstone sadly, thinking about that day and trying not to imagine a body rotting underneath his feet. If there was a body under there at all.

"Is that why you brought me here?"

"No, just had this thought that..." Clint huffed and crossed his arms, "That you should see it is all. Was it a bad idea?"

Loki couldn't understand why, but he was becoming more saddened and melancholy the longer they stood there. He thought maybe it was because he was surrounded by dead names, reminded that he was not immortal- reminded that Clint was not either. He found that he almost couldn't get his words out, opening his mouth to take a deep breath and then clear his throat.

"No," he whispered. "But I can tell you I don't want to be here any longer."

Clint actually chuckled and smirked at him. "I get cha. Come on- got more ground to cover before the end of the day."

They wandered away from Phil's grave and Loki had to force himself not to look back at it. They were slow to leave the cemetery, feeling like walking too fast would be seen as running away. If the dead of the Manhattan attack could see them leaving hand in hand, Clint wondered what they would think of him- beginning a relationship with the one who either killed them himself or had a hand in it, and going so far as to forsake his duty to protect just to be with him. And then he though 'fuck them'- they had never known him or Loki and when he thought of Phil, he knew that the agent wouldn't have been surprised. He would have rolled his eyes and asked Clint not to do anything that would force him to write a report.

They drove on, out of Arlington and down the freeway again. Clint had first marked out the secondary roads on the map for them to go place to place, and then right before leaving had decided against it. It would take longer by the lesser roads and, while he wanted to do some sightseeing with Loki, he didn't want to take weeks about it.

They stopped in a small city in Virginia and checked around for places to eat; they'd eaten nothing but gas station snacks since dawn. Clint moaned about a restaurant that wouldn't be open until later that night and so they settled on something quick and easy- a burger joint called Spelunkers that apparently had famous frozen custard. Clint explained the meaning of the name of the place while they ate and admitted that he had no experience in cave diving or exploring. It ended up being a perfect choice of eatery as they had come into this particular town to see a set of caverns. There were actually quite a few stops for them along their trip for caverns Clint had marked out on their map, and he hoped it wouldn't end up too monotonous for the god.

In the caves of Virginia, Loki tread lightly, almost reverently, and he inspected as many columns and formations as he could; searching for some hidden secret it seemed. Clint let him explore to his hearts content, happy to see his lover's enthusiasm, and he followed behind him through it all. The bright man-made lights built into the cave walls illuminated every detail, making the pools of water reflect the ceiling in a perfect mirror image. From where they stood, Loki commented that he actually couldn't tell where the water ended and the actual formations began. It was a trick of the light; a trick of the eyes, and Loki loved it. He squatted at the edge of the water and touched his fingers to the surface, watching the ripples extend out until the water was still again. And then Clint tossed a rock into its depths, making a splash and distorting the stalactite reflections into jagged spikes. The splash echoed throughout the cavern and somehow it made Loki laugh though he didn't know why. There was no reason as to why; they could do as they pleased whenever they felt the urge.

When they drove on, passing fields and near mountain ranges, they began to see giant satellite dishes, valleys of them, and Loki had them pull over to see them. Clint told him they were deep space satellites, taking pictures of the universe one inch at a time. The dishes were slightly menacing to Loki's eyes- such large and still man-made structures sitting silently in the lap of nature. Clint brought up on his phone pictures of what the satellites saw, showing them to the god. Loki took the phone from him, looked at a picture, and then promptly looked up into the sky, and he was reminded that there on Earth, the stars couldn't bee seen during the day. He looked at the picture again and wondered aloud if that was what Heimdall could see, and he couldn't fathom how the gatekeeper would be able to focus enough to see such insignificant beings like themselves. It was another moment for Clint to be reminded that they weren't alone in the universe, and even his lover wasn't human, no matter how closely he resembled one. Loki had known his entire life about other sentient beings, he just hadn't imagined that they could be as monstrous as he'd experienced. The two contemplated their existences there on the side of the road, staring at the satellites in the grass while cars whizzed past.

Quietly, Loki sighed, adjusting the helmet under his arm. "You know I'm truly not Odin's son, yes?"

"Yeah. Thor said you're adopted?"

"Something like that. I'm not even one of his species... It pains me to think about it. When I discovered it, my sense of reality was thrown into disarray. I felt like I couldn't trust anything I'd once thought was truth. And no one could fix it. No one could fix _me_. I had become an animal- relying on instinct, and my base instincts have always been destructive to some degree."

"So?"

Loki glared at the archer and Clint tried to hold in his snickering.

"What, are you trying to scare me? You think I care that you're not... whatever the hell Thor is? That you're another weird-ass alien not like them, not like the Chitauri- you're something else?" Clint scoffed. "Gonna have to try harder than that, babe: I've gone head to head with a gaze of raccoons."

Loki didn't bother questioning Clint as to how he knew the term for a group of specific animal. "Do you want me to scare you?" he asked defensively.

Clint was arrogant and challenging, and he very nearly laughed in Loki's face. He had no idea why this conversation was egging him on for this, but it just was.

"Give me your best shot!"

Loki glowered at him and held his breath, tensing his body slowly muscle by muscle with Clint waiting cockily. He strained himself, face starting to turn red, and then all the fight left him, exhaling hard and releasing the blood that had gathered in his face. Clint really did laugh that time, bending over to hold his knees as he laughed it out. Loki fumed as he looked down on him.

"Oh-ho-ho my god. You forgot you don't have magic!" he wheezed.

Loki's nostrils flared and he whipped around so he didn't have to look at his lover. "Oh- eat dirt, you _child_!"

The archer straightened up and went to him, wrapping his arms around him and pressing his face to the back of the leather jacket. "Okay, I'm sorry," he pleaded, winded from all his laughing. "I didn't mean to laugh at you, I just can't believe you forgot."

Loki sighed and let his helmet fall just to catch it by the end and let it dangle in his fingers. "I can't believe it either. I'm... becoming human. It's disgusting."

"Damn, babe: hurtful."

"I'm disgusted with myself," he clarified harshly. "How human I've become in knowledge and being... I could pass as any human in the street with everything I've learned, and Thor couldn't even pass if he were wearing your own clothes, the hulking, golden son of Odin!" Loki clenched a fist and his whole body shook in rage. "I used to be a GOD!"

Clint rubbed his hands down Loki's leather protected sides, letting him steam and stew after his outburst. He huffed a breath and blew at a lock of black hair that escaped the back of Loki's jacket.

"You're having an identity crisis- again. In all honesty, you're whoever you want to be. You're still an alien-god-thing to me, it's just that your magic is gone for a bit."

Loki sighed as he gazed up at the sky helplessly. "I _will_ get my magic back," he whispered.

"I know."

Loki turned to face his lover who looked up at him expectantly.

"You okay now?"

"For the moment."

"Okay," Clint chuckled. "Let's get going. There's a big stretch where we're not gonna stop." Clint mounted the motorcycle and reached out for Loki when he didn't follow. The god grabbed the offered hand and sighed again until Clint grabbed the front of his coat and pulled him down for a kiss. Loki pulled away with a smile and Clint snorted at him.

"Get on, Lo."

He put his helmet on and waited for Loki to get settled behind him before starting away again down the long road. They rode for five hours along the freeway with no major city in sight- all small towns, fields and orchards. They passed a few national parks but they didn't stop, just as Clint said they wouldn't, but Loki was able to see the trees just fine. When the sun finally set, they pulled off into the outskirts of a small town in Tennessee and took up a room at a hotel right off the freeway. The receptionist was pleasant and only raised her brows when Clint told her they would need only one bed. She made no fuss and Clint was grateful. He thought her only surprised look was seeing them come through the entryway with saddlebags and duffel over Loki's shoulder, and the bow and arrows Clint carried.

In the room, they dropped everything and showered, washing away the dirt of the road and then getting distracted by each other's skin, running through the hotel's hot water. Clint kept Loki pinned against the shower wall, fingers buried inside him and his other hand wrapped around their cocks. Afterwards, sated and clean, they dried off and Loki dressed in his silky pajamas. Clint lounged on the end of the bed naked but for the towel wrapped around his shoulders. He found the remote to the television and flipped it on, staring at the mindless, grainy shows for a moment before making a sound of disgust and turning it off again, falling back on the bed. Loki chuckled at him from the bathroom, setting his comb on the vanity.

"Movies are better, aren't they?" he asked and Clint agreed.

Loki climbed up on the bed and leaned back, setting the balls of his feet on Clint's forehead. He sighed and gazed down at the top of Clint's head as the archer glanced up at the toes in his line of sight.

"I think I'm gonna eat your toes," he decided calmly, to which the god replied:

"You had better not."

Clint hummed and stayed still, holding back the chuckle that was trying to burst out of him. He flashed his hands to one of Loki's feet, and Loki was almost able to pull them away in time, but one was caught in Clint's grip and pulled to his mouth where he made a big show of chewing on his toes. Loki yelped and kicked at him with his other foot, trying to twist away and also trying not to laugh. He knew he lost the battle when Clint nibbled up his calf to the back of his knee, shoving up the pant leg to pull at the skin with his teeth. Loki howled and tugged at Clint's hair, using his free foot to choke him.

Clint was rumbling with chuckles as he bit up the god, struggling to stay on the wriggling leg. He ended up losing his grip, laughing too hard under the pressure on his throat and becoming dizzy. It gave Loki the upper hand, getting Clint onto his back, pinned down under Loki's hands and knees.

"I told you not," he wheezed, letting Clint catch his breath.

"Don't make 'em look so good then."

Loki chuckled breathily and smiled when Clint started to yawn, turning his head away to not breathe in Loki's face.

"Sorry. Long drive."

"I know. Let's sleep."

The god let off of him and flipped off the lights, snuggling under the covers beside Clint and sighing contently. Clint turned on his side, nearly chest to chest with him, and pulled his face close for a kiss before touching their foreheads and letting them rest. Loki watched him, Clint's blond hair lightly outlined in the light through the hotel room curtains, until he closed his eyes and settled even closer, touching their noses to breathe the same air. Clint huffed and cupped the back of Loki's head, tangling his fingers in the damp locks and finally sleeping.


	24. You Know You Like It

The next morning was not an early start for Loki and Clint. With the sun shining through the curtains, lighting up the room in a yellow glow, Clint awoke with a cloudy brain, images of naked bodies fading in and out of his head, and he was sure he was hard, but he couldn't account for the pulsing strain on his cock that squeezed and released. He peeled his eyes open to see green eyes right over him and he gulped before gently clearing his throat.

"Insatiable," he grunted, and Loki chuckled, running his palm over the underside of his length where it lie against his belly.

"I'm not the one who was hard in his sleep with no stimulation."

"I like morning sex."

"Yes, I know."

He cupped Clint's face, laying a kiss on his lips, and Clint responded gently, returning it with deep breaths through his nose. He threaded his fingers into Loki's hair, letting his thumbs drag along the edge of cheekbones as he devoured his mouth. He was almost disappointed when the god broke away but he let it slide when Loki moved lower, catching the skin at his collar with his teeth. The rubbing on his cock had ceased, Loki putting both hands to work over his pecs, feeling his skin as he trailed further down, biting and kissing his muscles. He put his weight on him, squishing Clint's length under his chest as he licked at a nipple with the flat of his tongue.

Clint couldn't believe he felt so out of breath from just these little touches the god left on him. The pressure of Loki's body stemmed the movement of his hips, and jolts of pleasure surged to his arousal with Loki's lips and tongue on his ribs. He looked down his body to watch the pink tongue dart out, and it made his eyes roll back. The silk of Loki's pajamas was just as sensual on him and he couldn't help the hand that went to Loki's shoulder, applying the gentlest pressure to tell him exactly where he wanted that tongue.

While Loki refused to be moved along, he did press his palm over his erection again, giving him a firm rub as he flicked his tongue over Clint's groin, tantalizingly close. Clint was as hard as he could get, throbbing against Loki's jaw until the god just barely turned his face to it, warming it with his breath. Clint was almost panting when Loki touched his mouth to his shaft, dragging his lips up the side to let him feel the slick of the inside. He stopped just as his lip caught on the head and suddenly sucked it in, laving his tongue across the slit. Clint inhaled sharply and his eyes shut for a moment, pleased and relieved to feel the wet muscle curling along the tip of his cock. He hummed and sat up to watch again, resting on his elbows and using all his control to not move his hips. He wouldn't take his pleasure this time. He intended to let Loki give it all to him, work his entire skill set to make him come. He grazed his fingers over the sleep-tangled locks that brushed the tops of his thighs, resisting the temptation to grab them and force Loki down on him. He found that the sight of Loki's wide open mouth, tongue long and flat lapping up his length, was so much better than that.

While Loki worked him slowly, his hand had wandered down, pressing the pads of his fingers into Clint's package and massaging the soft skin. Clint sighed when the god cupped him while he still licked on all sides of his cock, wetting it to take his long fingers without drag. Loki nosed at the base of his cock, pumping him slowly as he pulled at the pliant skin with his lips. Clint hissed, wary, as he set his hand on top of Loki's head. The god glanced up at him briefly before carrying on.

"Please be careful down there," Clint muttered. "I've... had some bad experiences."

Loki hummed disappointedly at the notion and tentatively flicked his tongue at him, letting Clint settle and pull his hand off his head. He lazily stroked the shaft, squeezing on occasion just to change it up. But it wasn't all about his dick this time. Loki sucked on the loose skin of Clint's package, using only his lips and tongue. He didn't want to scare his lover out of this. Holding it on his tongue, Loki pulled one globe into his mouth and rolled it, drawing out a quiet hum from the archer. He moved on to the next one and repeated his motions, suckling on the soft skin before pulling it behind his lips. Clint was enjoying it immensely, keeping a low hum of a moan in his closed mouth. He loved the treatment- his wet shaft being pulled, his sack massaged, and all he had to do was lie there. Loki was kneading his flesh again and Clint had closed his eyes, rubbing his thumb along his own jutting hip bone.

When he felt gentle fingers touch under his knees in a light, upward pressure, Clint bent his legs, feet flat on both side of the god. He was confused about it for a moment until Loki's warm tongue slid down the back of his package to his entrance. Clint jolted and his eyes flew open just to stare at the ceiling, exhaling harshly. Loki was delicately swirling the end of his tongue back and forth against Clint's hole, his reactions making it tense and relax, tense and relax. The movement made Clint's hips roll, moving with every retreat of the wet muscle in an unconscious effort to feel it on him again. He was near constantly sighing, almost chuckling at times because he couldn't believe it could feel that good.

Loki was allowing Clint's hips too move with him, his own hands down to hold the cheeks away as he started to dart his tongue against the opening. Not entering just yet, but close. He glanced up at the archer every now and then, pleased with his reactions until Clint's hand came into view, taking hold of his cock to stroke in time with Loki's licks. The god stopped and grabbed his wrist, yanking it down to the bed and settling back to Clint's opening.

"Do not touch yourself," he commanded and resumed licking at the hole while Clint grunted, slightly miffed.

With a roll of his eyes and a snicker, Loki decided it was time, and he pushed the point of his tongue into him as far as he could go, and he hummed at Clint's sudden moan.

"Oh shit..." he whispered.

Loki wriggled the muscle inside him before pulling it back and then delving in again, just as slow as the first time. Clint continued to whisper curses under the onslaught, letting his hips jerk with every twitch of Loki's tongue. The god soon buried his face between Clint's cheeks, spearing him with his muscle over and over while his hands resumed caressing Clint's arousal, leaking fluid down the length. He chuckled when the archer's hand found his head again, pushing as if Loki could get any deeper inside.

"Shit- Loki..."

The god pulled away, smiling cockily, and pushed Clint's legs down to leave room for him to inch closer and suck the head of Clint's length. He almost sighed at the taste of Clint's pre-cum, opening his jaw to take in the whole thing, tongue long and flat under the hard flesh, undulating in between hard sucks. As he bobbed his head, sliding it in and out of his mouth, his thumb pressed and prodded at Clint's wet hole teasingly, making the archer push his hips into him.

He was losing his rhythm, thrusting into the warm wetness of Loki's mouth, breathing hard. He had his fingers in Loki's hair again, rubbing his fingers back and forth on his scalp, showing how pleased he was. The orgasm built in him slowly, beginning in the globes of flesh under his cock as a warm pull, tingling up to the base until Loki's finger pushed into his entrance simultaneous to a firm suck on the head of his arousal. Clint groaned and tightened his grip on the god's hair, holding him down on his cock as he burst, splashing the back of his throat with his cum. He continued to roll his hips into Loki's mouth and Loki let him- breathing through his nose in between thrusts and swallowing down the liquid Clint gave him.

When the archer sighed and went limp on the bed, scratching Loki's head again, Loki let the softening flesh slip from his lips and he rubbed Clint's naked thighs lovingly. He scooted up the tanned body and smirked down at Clint's euphoric face- a light, lopsided smile and half-closed eyes. He hummed and skimmed his hands over Loki's silk covered legs.

"'S'that why they call you 'Silver-tongue'?"

Loki's smile disappeared and he glared, suddenly reaching back and slapping Clint across the face. Clint's post-orgasm high was gone, startled and cheek on fire with the slap. He pressed his hand on his face and looked affronted, but the god was already getting off the bed.

"What the hell was that for?!"

Loki started shedding his clothes and hastily gathering his outfit for the day. "You just called me a whore," he growled, tugging on his jeans and socks.

"Wh-What? With the Silver-tongue thing?"

"Yes!"

Clint sat up on his knees, face pulled into a look of confusion. "What does-"

"That is my realms-wide nickname for my oratory and persuasive prowess and you just used it to insinuate that I have a lot of practice using my mouth for sexual pleasure!"

Clint's jaw fell open, watching the god pull a T-shirt over his head, features purely angry. "Are you serious? It was a fucking compliment! You give great head- it was funny!"

Loki grimaced in disgust, leather jacket on and gathering his boots. "Oh, you are vile! I just swallowed your ejaculate and that's what you have to say to me?" He picked up the saddlebags and yanked open the door to the room just to step out and slam it shut.

Clint exhaled like it had been punched out of him, and he sat hunched on the mattress, rubbing his red cheek.

"Jesus."

* * *

Dressed and gear in hand, after packing up Loki's things he left in the bathroom, Clint stepped into the hotel lobby, waiting at the desk for the receptionist. It was the same girl from the night shift. She looked tired but she smiled at Clint all the same, ready to do her job even though she was clearly supposed to be off by then. He read her name tag and it piqued his interest for a moment.

"Odile?"

She smiled weakly and nodded. "My grandmother's name."

"It's very pretty."

"Thank you. Are you checking out?"

Clint sighed, exasperated but not at her. "Yeah."

Odile nodded again and typed on the hotel computer, bringing up the bill for the use of a room for one night. She glanced up at him and then over his shoulder, where Loki was waiting by the bike in front of the glass doors.

"Everything all right with you and your friend?"

"Ugh. It will be." Clint took cash out of his wallet and handed it to her, letting her count it out after him. "I'm an insensitive asshole and he's- heh, well, he's _pinchazo quisquilloso_ \- a fussy prick," he translated for her and she laughed. He smiled. "Now you can insult someone without them knowing. Just make sure they can't speak Spanish."

Odile shook her head and still laughed, thanking him for the info. "I'll be sure to use it. Have a good day."

Clint started to walk away, waving to her before he turned around. "Thanks, Odile. You too."

He exited the hotel and froze just outside the doors, watching Loki lean against the motorcycle and take a drag off a cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly through his nose and mouth. Seeing those green eyes through the smoke sent shivers down Clint's spine and a jolt to his cock, and he wanted to roll his eyes at himself. Of course he could get off on anything Loki did. He wanted to be ashamed of himself but he was too surprised for that.

The god turned his head to him and brought the cigarette to his lips again, holding it between his index and middle finger like he'd been doing it his whole life. As he spoke, the smoke billowed out from between his lips- a deadly dragon that needed to be soothed.

"Have something to say to me?" Loki asked lowly.

"Where did you get that?"

Loki's eyes tightened angrily. "Is this a joke?"

"You know those things will shorten your life?"

" _I'm_ going to shorten your life if you don't start apologizing!"

Clint sighed and propped his bow against the bike, feeling like an idiot for getting caught up with the sight of the cigarette.

"I'm sorry," he said, standing at Loki's side. "I'm sorry- I'm a fucking idiot."

Loki took another drag on his smoke, looking unimpressed.

"I wasn't trying to call you a whore, or anything, it just- ugh. It just came out. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. Can you put the smoke away- you're really fucking hot with it and I can't concentrate."

Loki smirked and blew the smoke out from his nose. He leaned in to the archer's space. "You just like to see my lips wrapped around something," he growled, reaching to grab Clint's hair and pull his head back. "But you fail to appreciate it when it's done solely for _your_ pleasure." He started to pull his head back to the point where his neck could go no further. "Get on your knees," He whispered wetly, and the archer obeyed, breathing starting to speed up with the realization that they were in full public view. There were only a few cars passing on the roads; one person on the sidewalk, but they could all see him if they only turned their heads. He wondered if Odile was still behind the front desk, watching in fearful fascination as she saw firsthand what their relationship could be.

Loki was still gripping Clint's hair even as he dropped to the asphalt, straining his eyes in the sunlight to look at the god. With another pull on the cigarette and the smoke hissing through Loki's teeth, he leaned down with a grimace on his lips.

"Next time, you will have to make yourself come from the sound of my own moans while you pleasure me, or not at all. And also-" he leaned down further to nearly touch their noses- "What should you have said to me after I brought you to orgasm today?"

Clint was achingly hard and he was loathe to admit it even to himself. Loki's dominance over him, making him kneel at his feet, head held back to bare his neck- it turned him on just as the sight of the smoke billowing out of the god's lungs did. He gasped when Loki yanked his hair, awaiting a response.

"Agh! I- I love you!"

"Yes." The god glanced down at Clint's crotch and back up to his grey eyes. "Are you hard right now?"

"Jesus, yes," he wheezed, dizzy from the blood draining to his cock.

Loki snickered and released his grip, stepping away while Clint gasped for breath. "Now who is the insatiable one?"

Clint didn't answer, getting up and rubbing the back of his head where his roots were yanked on. His knees hurt from the asphalt. He sighed and adjusted the arousal in his jeans as he watched Loki flick away the butt of his cigarette.

"Feel better?"

"I believe it was that which was making me feel less angry rather than your apology, but your apology still helped a little."

"I'm sorry," Clint tried again, actually sounding repentant this time. "I love you."

Loki's face softened finally. "I love you too, but you make it very difficult some days."

"Yeah, you're no fucking picnic either."

The god smiled and set his arms over Clint's shoulders, leaning in to press his lips on Clint's, and he took it happily, holding Loki by his sides and kissing him deeply. When they pulled apart and Clint started putting the bow and quiver back on the bike, he heard a click and the sound of scraping metal. He turned to see Loki with a Zippo lighter, watching the flame with a dirty smile.

"Where the hell are you getting this stuff?"

Loki looked at Clint distractedly and flipped the lighter closed. "While I waited for you out here a man came by and he asked if I wanted a 'smoke'. He gave me this as well. He said he had two."

"You just took a cig from a random stranger?"

Loki put the lighter in the zipper pocket of his coat. "He said I looked 'down' and offered a pick-me-up. It would have been rude to refuse. And I find I rather like these."

Clint snorted and passed the god his helmet. "Remind me to never let you have any drugs. I let you get a taste of coke and you'd never get off."

Loki squinted his eyes in confusion as Clint got on the motorcycle and waited for Loki to mount behind him. "Coke?"

"Cocaine. You snort- you know what- never mind," Clint chuckled. "Let's just go."

"As you wish," Loki assented and held on to Clint's hips. "But let's stop for more cigarettes before the day is out."

The archer flipped his visor down and shook his head, laughing to himself and agreeing that they would.

* * *

They did stop for a pack of cigarettes when they drove into the next city in Tennessee, stopping originally for another set of caverns to explore. These were huge, large enough to serve as a concert hall for bands, ballrooms for weddings, and in fact there was a chandelier hanging from the high ceiling in the main cavern. Along the walls were white crystal formations shaped like blossoming flowers the size of Clint's hand, and Loki slyly snapped a section off and stowed it in his pocket while the tour guide and other guests were looking away. Clint gave him a questioning look and Loki waved him away nonchalantly, moving on.

There was a large pool of water, a rock wall built around it to keep people from falling in, and it was lit up from inside- the water a yellow-green color. At the bottom as Loki looked in, were hundreds of coins shining and the god looked to Clint for answers. He'd seen many fountains, pools and cave waters with money littering their floors and he didn't understand it.

"Why do people throw money into water? What is the point of that?"

"It's from some old legend about a wishing well or something," Clint explained poorly. He hardly knew the story behind it either. "You throw a coin in the well and make a wish and it comes true I guess."

"These are not wells."

Clint shrugged. "Yeah well, people are people. I've seen people throw coins into mall fountains. Never said humans were particularly smart."

"The majority it seems."

The tour guide was moving along, taking the group with him, and Loki and Clint followed slowly, not really listening to whatever it was he had to say. They walked at a leisurely pace, content to trail behind and watch the drips of calcitic water from stalactite to stalagmite; listening to the echoing din of the group and sometimes the sound of a small waterfall somewhere unseen in the caves. The cavern air was cool and damp and Loki loved it. The entire atmosphere of the escapade put Loki in a better mood, having forgiven Clint for his earlier idiocy, and he coyly reached out to hold Clint's hand as they walked. Clint was surprised but pleased, smirking at the god who refused to look at him while they held hands like young lovers.

* * *

At the next destination, in Alabama, they stopped to see a canyon apparently hidden away in a forest. They walked down the stone pathways and foot-beaten paths among the looming, skinny trees, Loki smoking as they went and receiving dirty looks from other tourists. The god blew smoke in their direction and smiled sweetly as they walked away. It was close to sunset, the forest becoming a fiery blaze of oranges and yellows while the moss that covered the giant boulders remained a healthy (in Loki's opinion) vibrant green. He rubbed his fingertips along the rocks and trees where the moss grew and was intrigued by a mushroom which he ate a piece of. Clint wasn't happy about it but there seemed to be no apparent reaction to Loki's system. At the very least, he stopped the god from eating the whole thing once he said it 'tasted rather good' and offered him another cigarette instead.

They ended up at the canyon entrance, where a group of guests would begin the tour soon, the pair included. It would be a while before it began though, and Loki asked how long they had. He pulled the archer away from the people milling about, ooh-ing and awe-ing over the plant life, and went into the forest off the paths. He dragged him until they reached a huge rock-face, completely flat like it had been cut away, with moss growing along it, dripping off the edges like frozen water, ferns sprouting from any crevice. They couldn't hear the people from there and Loki grinned at Clint predatorily, hands going to his jeans and starting to unzip.

"Get on your knees," he prompted quietly, still smiling his evil smile, and Clint obeyed, heart fluttering at the thought of what he'd be doing right then.

Loki turned around and chuckled, pushing his jeans down under his butt cheeks and reaching back to Clint's head, suddenly shoving his face into his ass. Clint grabbed Loki's thighs in surprise, steadying himself and looking up at the back of Loki's head.

The god chuckled darkly again and pushed at the archer's head. "This is how you will repay me for your snotty comment this morning. Get to it."

"Mmph! Shit!" Clint's face was shoved into Loki's ass, muffled but willing. Very willing. He nuzzled between Loki's cheeks and found his entrance, beginning to rub his tongue along it flatly like Loki had done to him that morning. The god above him sighed and pushed back against him eagerly.

"Put your tongue in," he whispered thickly. "Work me open."

His command sent spikes of heat straight to Clint's cock, hardening rapidly, and he went to work immediately, making one last lick over his opening before thrusting his tongue in. The god moaned quietly and steadied himself with a hand on the rock face, other hand rubbing over his exposed groin next to his hard length.

Clint groaned at Loki's sounds, and he unbuttoned his own pants to release his cock, giving it a firm squeeze as he darted his tongue in and out of the god. He flicked around the outside of the ring of muscle gently, making the god tense and pant, and then he plunged his whole tongue in again to make him tremble. He squeezed Loki's thigh as he squeezed himself, moaning into Loki's ass and vibrating him.

"Ohhhh... You better not be touching yourself or I will humiliate you."

Clint's hand dashed away from his cock to Loki's other leg and the god laughed through his moans.

"Oh yes- Mmmm, I hope you're ready."

Clint was slightly afraid of whatever his lover had planned for him, but his length was still hard, and dripping even, and he continued to pleasure him despite his aching. He thrust in tongue in and out of Loki's hole quickly, huffing and straining with the increasing moans until the god's breathing hitched and then released in a harsh groan, entrance tightening around the wet muscle invading him. Clint pulled away and stared up at Loki's heaving back, letting him catch his breath.

When the god turned around, his cock was beginning to go limp, and one hand was cupped like he held a handful of water. He lowered his hand to Clint's level, still lightly panting, and showed him the small pool of cum in his palm.

"Drink it."

Clint balked, firstly surprised that the god had jerked himself off when he despised doing so, and then very nearly disgusted by the notion of Loki's command. He started to lean away when Loki held his head in place and brought his hand to Clint's lips.

"Yes, it's a horrid proposition, isn't it? Yet I did it for you this morn without complaint. Now drink it, and I will help you with yours."

Clint took a deep breath and drew his mouth into a frown, flushing in embarrassment, but he slowly opened his mouth and licked away the cum from Loki's hand and swallowed it down. Loki smirked and wiped his spit and cum-slicked hand on his jeans. He tucked himself back into his pants and did them up and told Clint to stand. Then he himself got down on his knees, level with Clint's still hard cock, and Loki dropped his jaw and let his tongue roll out, waiting. He quirked a brow at the archer when the cock in his face jumped at the sight of the god on his knees, and it was almost a challenge.

Clint scoffed in disbelief and took himself in hand, pumping his cock roughly and staring into the god's eyes, watching a line of saliva drip slowly off the end of his tongue. He gruffly grabbed the back of Loki's head as Loki had done to him earlier and held him just against his arousal. He rubbed the tip on the top of Loki's tongue, spreading his pre-cum on it as he jerked off hard, beginning to pant, and when the god curved his tongue to run a line down the underside of the head, Clint cursed and came, shooting the white liquid onto his tongue. Loki had closed his eyes and let his mouth hang open, and when Clint starting to level out his panting, he opened his eyes to watch Clint stare as the cum began to drip of the end of his tongue to the mossy ground. Clint let go of his cock and Loki rolled his tongue up to catch the rest of his lover's semen, closing his mouth to swallow it. Loki stood up and brushed the dirt from his knees and smiled as he tucked Clint back into his pants, humming contently. Clint was still thinking about the movements of Loki's tongue, watching him curiously until the god started to walk away, pulling Clint by his fingers.

"I think the tour may be starting now."

And Clint let himself be pulled along out of the thick of the forest and to the tour group, which was indeed gathering together, and Loki glanced back at him with a smirk. Their relationship was a strange one, he thought. Where Loki was in charge but let Clint take the lead. Clint would take a 'punishment' if he fucked up, but he loved Loki and trusted him not to take it too far.

The group all brought flashlights, running the beams up the mossy walls of the canyon when the tour guide did it. When the sun finally set, and they were walking in the dark, they were all commanded to turn off the lights- and watched blue glowing dots appear on the walls. It was so dark, and the number glowing bugs so dense that they could scarcely tell where the wall ended and the sky of stars began. They were really some kind of fly larvae that glowed to catch prey in their sticky strings of mucus, but they were beautiful in the dark. The tourists exclaimed over them, and even Loki and Clint were intrigued, listening intently to the guide describe them as some sort of cousin to another glowing bug in New Zealand. How true that was, Clint was sure he didn't know, but what the hell did he care?

They ended the day there in that park, having another six hour stint of driving ahead of them to the next destination, and slept in a cozy cabin on the grounds. And the next morning was another lazy start, except Clint decided not to open his mouth for any stupid comments this time.


	25. Who's Your Daddy?

The next two days would be the longest of Clint and Loki's trip. Starting from the cabin in Dismals Canyon, Alabama, they drove, and drove… and drove. Six hours to the next big destination- a hot spring national forest. All in all, they were disappointed by the hot springs they couldn't really find, not wanting to explore the forests for an entire day just to find one. There was a runoff down some boulders in the city next to it, which collected the hot water in a little algae-coated cement spring. Which didn't allow people to actually get in and enjoy. You were only supposed to put your hand in to feel it. While there was a large facility for hot spring bathing and saunas, extremely pretty and extravagant, Clint had wanted to bathe naturally- naked and wild with trees all around. So they took matters into their own hands, and stripped down to their shorts, running through the throngs of tourists to jump the lip of the rocks and splash into the spring outside. Clint ran, rather. And slipped on the slick algae coating the floor, sending him crashing down, and Loki laughed at him and gingerly climbed in behind him, much to the gasps and outrage of the people behind them. They sat in the small pool for a few minutes, talking together while the tourists and locals walked up and said they couldn't be there. Loki flicked his hand at them in curt dismissal. When actual authorities started making their way up to the spring, Clint saw them coming and warned Loki, and they both jumped up and made a run for it, laughing hysterically as the cops tried to chase them on foot and lost them in the crowds. They dressed in clean and dry shorts in a bathroom and dressed, getting back on the motorcycle and gliding away down the freeways again.

They stopped frequently for snacks or actual meals; small towns with mom-and-pop restaurants where the food felt real. They stretched their legs, saw silly tourist sights like 'Worlds Biggest Ball of Twine' sort of thing, tons of landscape that seemed all the same and not after riding through half of the country. Clint skipped them through a lot of the second largest state in the country, preferring to make stops on the westernmost corner where Mexico and New Mexico joined it.

The last stop of the day was a winery, somewhere just outside a university town in Texas, taking the tour with another group of course. They walked through the winery, all the machines and tubs that fermented the wines, crushed the grapes. That was all good, though Clint was just waiting for the end where they got to taste everything. The land was pretty barren outside except for the actual vineyards, but out there as they moved from the facilities that would make the wine to the building to taste and buy, the tour guide stopped them all for a break. And to wash their feet and participate in grape crushing.

Big barrels sat in a line with stools beside them, half full with ripe, plump grapes. The tour guide insisted they give it a try, because when was the next time you were going to crush grapes underfoot like they did in the old days? A few girls jumped at the chance, getting their feet and legs washed off at a nearby station just for that purpose, and they hopped into the vats, giggling and squealing about the feel. Loki was interested in this part, having never done this himself but he'd seen it done at home in Asgard. Grape stomping was something done by commoners, but Loki had no problem rolling up his jeans and jumping into the barrel, telling Clint to be his helper and clear the spigot where the juice would come out. He smiled and laughed along with the ladies beside him, digging his feet deep into the mounds of grapes and feeling them pop open. Soon it became a contest- who could make the most juice the fastest. But it was all in fun, and Clint was glad to see Loki so enthused. When that so-called break was over, they were all actually quite worn out from stomping in the sun, the tour guide brought them to the tastings. The pair took their time, tasting in small sips, not that they knew anything about wine, but it had been fun for them nonetheless.

After they made their rounds, Clint chose a couple bottles of the one they liked best, proceeding to get hammered with them. The tourists saw no problem with that, ending up drinking enough glasses to not quite give a fuck. They were all drunk, but Clint wasn't quite sure if Loki really was. He seemed to be acting generally the same, though he had drunk a bottle of wine all on his own. Clint was wasted though, so comparisons couldn't really be made in his state. He danced with the ladies who started to wiggle around, letting Loki watch with a dirty stare. He had fun until he couldn't stand, trying to drink some more and getting cut off by Loki's firm suggestion that he'd had enough. It was getting dark anyway- they would take a taxi back into town to stumble into the hotel where they left the bike.

Loki held onto Clint by the shoulders and steered him through the halls, letting him laugh and stumble, ignoring him when he told Loki to get on his back and he'd carry him to the room. In their tiny hotel room, Clint almost giggled as he flopped face first onto the bed, trying to crawl to the pillows and stopping halfway when he couldn't get his arms to cooperate. He felt the bed dip further with the addition of Loki's weight; he expected Loki to lie down beside him. He felt hands at his hips instead, pulling him to his knees and Loki's hips pressed firmly against his butt. Inhibitions flying out the window, Clint hummed a groan and pushed back.

"Oh, shit, let's do it. You wanna fuck me?"

Loki took a shaky breath at the increased pressure on his groin, cock hardening against Clint's ass. "You are rather inviting today."

"Then let's get it- show me what you fuckin' got."

Loki leaned over him as he started yanking Clint's pants down his hips, grabbing a handful of his sandy hair and bending his neck back. "Be careful what you ask for, my dear tiercel," he growled and bit Clint's ear.

Clint sighed as his hair was released and he half-chuckled. "I was waiting for the day you'd call me that."

His mind blanked and his heart sped up in slight trepidation at the sudden rub of Loki's cock between his cheeks. He was a little worried, he'd admit it, sober enough at the moment to realize what was going to happen to him. He was so aroused, ready and wanting, but it had been a very long time since he was the one taking it. He was half-hard in his slight fear of being ripped open, and he couldn't move his arms from their position holding him up- there was no balance for him in this state of drunken arousal.

From just one slick finger slipping into him, Clint's head fell and he tried to hold back the sigh of relieved pleasure that filled him. He felt better that Loki was at least going to stretch him out a little, rather than ramming in like he would do. But Loki liked it that way.

He didn't receive as much preparation as he had hoped though, one moment enjoying the small intrusion to rev him up slowly, the next he was met with the blunt head of Loki's cock, slipping and stretching into him inch by inch. Clint gripped the sheets and hissed in pain, trying to hold out until the end. Loki moaned behind his teeth as he pushed further, slowly, and enjoyed every tense of the muscles surrounding his length.

"Fuck-" Clint groaned, face pulled into a painful grimace. "Fuck, slower babe; I can't take it as fast as you."

Loki retreated some with that, hearing Clint's sigh of relief and starting to push into him again, gliding his hand down the archer's back under his shirt to calm him. It gets easier as Loki adds a little more lube and goes in again, letting Clint sit and adjust every couple moments, letting him breathe.

"Are you feeling better?"

Head bowed between his arms, Clint nods, still pained by the burn, but he'd have to deal with it until he started to feel the pleasure. "Yeah, I'm okay. Feels good but it burns."

"I'm almost in."

"Okay."

Clint's hard on had flagged from the pain, but he didn't worry about it then. It would come back up when they got going. He bore the rest silently, waiting for the moment Loki's hips met his ass again and he sighed. Loki sighed too, leaning over Clint's back and running his hands down his chest reassuringly.

"When as the last time you did this to someone?" Clint asks quietly, waiting for his body to respond nicely to the intrusion.

"Would you like a number?" Loki pauses to think about it. "Twenty-seven years ago, when I seduced the stable-boy and let him ride me all night."

The image sent shivers down Clint's body, and he wasn't sure if it was the thought of Loki taking another man or the setting and situation that caused it. Loki felt the tremors and smiled, fingers slipping down to Clint's mostly limp cock and pulling it gently. He shifted to put his lips closer to Clint's ear, consequently pushing a little deeper into him and making him groan.

"He was so young; so fearful and willing..." Loki whispered. "He would do anything I asked- even stripping down naked and fingering himself on the hay. Mmm-" The story was even getting to Loki, remembering the night well and starting to thrust shallowly into Clint. "All I had to do was expose myself, and he put himself on it- I didn't even have to tell him"

Clint tried to snort, and it came out as a choked breath. "'Cause you're so scary it's hot. It's that dangerous, adrenaline fuck we like."

Loki chuckled and leaned away, holding Clint by his hips and giving one gentle thrust as a warning that he was going to start. Clint made himself steady on the mattress, widening the stance of his knees as far as his jeans would allow, and then Loki withdrew, pounding into him the next second. It was slow but hard, knocking the breath out of Clint with every thrust and shaking his body. But it felt so good, the burn no longer being a problem, just the pounding to his insides; Loki open-mouthed and panting, half-smiling that evil grin. The faster it became, the more vocal Clint got, dropping onto his elbows and letting himself be fucked.

"I could've had you like this," Loki hissed, digging his fingers into the meat of Clint's ass. "The Tesseract would have let me take you. And you would have loved it, just as you do now."

Squeezing his eyes shut, Clint admitted it, groaning and beginning to push back onto Loki's length himself.

"You want dangerous?" He continued and chuckled darkly, slowing his thrusts and keeping them hard enough to slap Clint's cheeks. "You want scary? Let's play then."

It was as if a switch had been turned on in Clint, somehow knowing automatically what Loki had meant, and he tensed against the sheets, pulling in his breathing to an even pace. And he smirked.

"Who's the next target, Boss?"

Loki cooed happily at the words, reaching into his jacket and coming out with one of his green bladed knives. "You, Agent Barton. The target of an experiment. Can you handle this? It will be painful." As he spoke he slipped the blade under Clint's shirt and sliced it open, letting it fall down his arms and to the bed. "It will be bloody."

Clint's breath caught in his throat at the warning, but not completely in fear. "I can take it, Sir."

"I thought you might." He took a moment to curl over the archer's back, whispering in his ear softly. "Trust me?"

Clint smiled and twisted to kiss him. "Yeah. I'll be okay," he whispered back, like they were being watched by a crowd. "Just don't stab me."

"I won't."

Then Loki drew upright again and gave the man a few more lazy thrusts to keep him in the game, but his dagger skittered up Clint's back to his neck, twirling the point there easily. Clint hissed when the point nicked into his skin, and as it dragged down the skin along the side of his spine, all the way down, his breath left him in a huff, body suddenly burning in a deep flush. It was a light cut, like a cat scratch, but it would still just barely draw blood. And he was hard as a rock.

Clint didn't like to think that pain turned him on, because most times it really didn't. Getting shot and stabbed, punched in the face or tortured- that didn't do anything for him. But a little scratching, some biting, a bit of bleeding… he didn't mind that. When a wet, pointed tongue dragged up the fresh cut, lapping up the tiny line of blood, it stung and cooled him down some. Loki rested his chin over Clint's shoulder, chest against his back, and he sighed, pushing himself firmer into him, touching all the sweet spots to make Clint shake.

"That wasn't so terrible, was it?" he asked in a light tone just as he suddenly dragged the knife down the side of Clint's ribs, drawing the same amount of blood.

Clint hissed behind his teeth and drew forward, stretching under the god and pulling some of him out just to shift his hips back to take him again. "No, Sir," he panted.

"You rather liked it, I think." His free hand had traveled down between Clint's legs and twirled his long fingers around the near dripping cock he found. "Mmm, yes, I think so." He wrapped his arm around Clint's chest, resting the flat of the blade against his skin and rocked his hips into him, starting to breathe unevenly. "And if I were to cut my name into you? Could you still be so swollen, after your blood runs down your body, scarred for the rest of your life by the God of Lies?"

Loki sat up again, thrusting into Clint harshly, grunting and slicing more lines down his back, light enough that of course they wouldn't leave a scar. But Clint wondered if Loki would really cut him deep enough to do that. Only if Clint let him. His light wounds were stinging, making him shiver just as Loki's movements made him jolt, and the alcohol in his system made the blood flow just a little more freely; still not enough to make a mess. And he suddenly wanted it.

"Do it to me," he gasped under the onslaught.

Loki's hips stuttered, like he wasn't completely sure he'd heard him, and he slowed to a stop. "What was that, Agent Barton?" He wasn't sure if they were still playing.

"You wanna mark me- then do it."

Loki wasted no time pulling out of the archer and pushing him over, letting Clint steady himself on his back, looking up at the god on his knees defiantly. He lay his legs around Loki's and glared up at him, panting and almost a little frightened, but still so hard, still wanting so much. The veins in his arms pulsed and muscles quivered as he held himself up on his elbows. Loki squinted at him almost in anger, maybe with a bit of questioning, and lashed out, grabbing Clint's throat and squeezing, making it just hard enough to breathe. Bearing down over him, Loki gets close enough to touch their noses, dagger absently dragging up Clint's belly and chest.

"Your arrogance will get you more than you ask, little tiercel," he growled, tightening his grip for just a moment.

The momentary cut off of his air didn't frighten Clint, still meeting Loki's eye. But he knew by Loki's words that he was confused, but still trying to play the game. Clint would have to be a little more in depth. And be polite to the boss.

"You don't have to say- you want me. You want to own me and you don't want anyone else to look at me unless it's to see your name." Clint was near panting, riled up by his own suggestions and he just couldn't believe what he was asking the god. "You're the master: I just need the collar."

Loki was stunned, and he showed it by the release of his grip around Clint's neck, though he still left his hand there. His face washed away the looks of the sinful, crazy master, and replaced it with caution and slight worry. "Are we speaking seriously here?" he whispered.

"Just don't make it a goddamn painting and it'll be all good."

Loki's eyes twitched back and forth between Clint's, reading them for the truth until he was sure he wasn't being deceived. "I love you," he whispered once more, a large grin on his face.

"I love you too."

And suddenly it was all business again- Loki dragged his nails harshly down Clint's chest, retrieving his angry squint and scooting up closer between his legs. He was scanning his eyes down Clint's tanned torso, picking out his favorite places, deciding where he would make his mark. Clint had started slowly stroking himself, not wanting to lose the good feelings he had just had until he turned over. He'd have to take off his pants to be fucked again, and Loki wouldn't want to stop what he was doing for that.

Loki hummed decisively, apparently having chosen his spot, and bent over him, rubbing his fingertips over the left of Clint's ribcage. He glanced up at the archer just once, and kept the dirty smirk on his lips as he touched the tip of the blade to the skin. With one hand, Loki stretched the skin taut over the last two ribs, readying the dagger for the first mark.

"Do not move."

Clint sucked in a shaky breath. "Yes Sir." He squeezed his own length hard in trepidation for the first cut, and when it came, his breath caught in his throat and he roughly, slowly, pulled on himself, trying to keep it alive.

Flesh being sliced open over his ribs, Clint closed his eyes against the pain, starting to sweat from the heat that rushed over him. The cuts felt giant. Long and wide and never-ending though he knew they were probably almost nothing. But it was deep, he knew that for sure. If Loki wanted to scar him, he would do it right the first time and make it so. When it was over- and he hadn't been sure it really was with how burnt up he felt, how tingly and shaky his body was- Loki drew away, letting his fingers drift over the wounds and away over his skin. Clint raised himself back onto his elbows, not really sure when he laid down, and looked at the ripped skin; the blood dripping over his side and onto the bed, starting to roll down his abdomen in small rivulets, smeared across his belly in the wake of Loki's fingers. He panted as he looked at his wound, making out lines and angles that didn't read into anything he knew. A name in a language he couldn't even read. He was entranced by it, by the blood, by the sting. By the branding. He barely realized that Loki was drawing his jeans off of him, belatedly helping by pulling his feet out of the legs. Loki had already shucked off his jacket and shirt, leaving on his own pants, and then he leaned down to Clint again, stretching out over him to slide their skin together, dagger abandoned and long-fingered hands roaming to spread the blood between them.

"You're mine now," he said, rolling their hips together and threading his fingers into Clint's hair, drawing him in for a sloppy kiss. Clint nodded as he accepted Loki's tongue, using his legs to draw him closer, and exactly where he wanted him- hardened length touching his entrance again and barely pressing. Breaking away to bite at Clint's collar, teasing by the subtle jerks of his hips, Loki nipped at his skin and smirked.

"Is that what you wanted?"

"It's what you wanted, Sir. Whatever you want."

"Oh- heh, how pliant you are now… I suppose I could reward you. It depends on what you want." Loki drew up to gaze down on him, arrogant and princely always.

"Fuck me, Sir."

Loki smirked again, sharp and pearly white teeth showing in the corner. He picked up Clint's knees and spread his legs, exposing everything he had to show, moving to bend him nearly in half before he entered him again in one pummeling thrust. Clint's hands went up to the headboard, bracing against it as he was brutalized, but with every breath punched out of him, every half-moan that came with it, he loved it. It hurt in the best ways, with Loki ramming into his prostate, rubbing his palm over the wounded flesh of his chest, the cuts on his back grinding into the sheets. He wasn't sure if he was drunk anymore, but this was a different kind of inebriation- where he couldn't get enough, nothing was enough to get him off. Not in this panting, moaning kind of silence.

"Fu- Talk to me, Boss," Clint pleaded, fisting his cock and dripping onto his belly.

Loki sighed with a growing grin and continued to piston into him harshly. "You think you control me- with how you speak to me in bed. But _I_ run this operation! _I_ fuck you and use you."

Clint stroked himself faster and let go of the headboard, reaching to hold Loki by the back of the neck and draw him down close.

"And you love it," Loki hissed. "You love being my pet, masquerading as the leader when I let you. You love how I fuck you- breaking you in half to take my pleasure and leave you dripping. Say it!"

"Oh- Shit, I fucking love it. Fuck me, Sir! Fuck me!"

Clint wasn't used to begging himself, making others do it to turn him on, but he had to admit that he wasn't too opposed to this. As long as it was only Loki making him beg. Loki lost himself to it, closing his eyes and hammering into Clint with abandon, and Clint couldn't keep his mouth shut, a stream of curses falling out until he felt it his orgasm hit. And then it was just more talking, because he can't even help himself. Jerking on his cock as he was fucked into the bed, his body tensed and squeezed around the god, making him dig his fingers into Clint's wound.

"Shit shit shit! Fuck- Yes! Yes, Loki- Fuuuck!"

As his orgasm rolled through him, Loki followed suit, teeth bared and almost snarling as he drove home and rode it out until he was panting. Both of them caught their breath, with Loki lowering Clint's legs to the bed and hovering over him, eyes half closed and worn out. Clint pulled him down on top of him, squishing his semen between them and smearing it into the blood, but they didn't care. They kissed hard and held on to each other, hot enough to almost turn them on again, but after a round like that, they wouldn't be able to pick it up.

"That went very well," Loki decided breathily as they broke the kiss and laid together.

Clint scoffed. "Did you expect it not to?"

"Well, you were very drunk… And I did not expect you to humor me like you did."

"You mean cut me open."

"That is what I mean."

Clint took a deep, tired breath and wrapped his arms around the god. "It was fun. I had fun. And now I'm tired."

Loki sat up, fingers trailing over Clint's wound gently now that the game was over. Clint's blood and cum mixed and smeared on his belly. "You don't wish to clean up? I don't want you to get infected."

Clint sighed and moved to sit up with a groan. "Ah, I guess. Wanna come with me?"

Looking down at the painting of blood and cum on his own stomach, Loki agreed and followed Clint into the hotel room bathroom, peeling off his pants and joined him under the hot spray of water. He quickly wet himself and stepped away to soap up, letting Clint get under the water and rinse the slow oozing blood out of his cuts. His eyes trailed down the thin lines that raked down Clint's back, feeling a little proud, but also a lot of love for the archer. He was warm inside at the knowledge that Clint trusted him so implicitly as to let himself be cut up; let himself be manhandled and made to kneel. Only for Loki.

"I know you're staring at me," Clint grumbled to his chest as he inspected his cuts. "What are you thinking about?"

Loki was pulled out of his musing and he softly smiled at Clint's back, continuing to wash himself. "Us," he said quietly.

Clint turned around and let the spray douse his back, stinging his cuts for a moment until they numbed. "Just us, huh?"

He reached for the shampoo and started to scrub it into his hair. Loki scooted by him to rinse off, and switched again when Clint needed to rinse his hair. He stared at the marks he made on Clint's back, stared at the wound that would scar. They didn't talk about it. Clint slapped a bandage over it when they got out of the shower and crawled into bed naked and still slightly damp, Loki following suit and forgoing his pajamas for the night. Clint lie on his back, finding that the sheets cooled his small cuts, and Loki curled into him, barely tracing a finger over the bandage covering his brand.

"You haven't asked me what it says," Loki noted quietly. There were no loud voices in the dark.

"I don't need to know," Clint decided after a little deliberation, shuffling to get his arm around the god. "Could be any number of things, but knowing you- the narrows it down to a few things. I won't say what- who cares? Do you like it?"

Loki hummed low in his throat. "It calms the animal in me to have you marked for me only."

"Then that's all I care about."

Loki hummed again and let the subject drop. He closed his eyes and listened to Clint's heartbeat as he fell asleep, waiting for the day his magic would return to him. Clint would be able to read it himself then.

* * *

 _Jeez, I'm sorry, I really had no interest in talking about much of what they did today, and I really wanted Clint to get fucked. So that's what happened and then it just... got crazy. I don't know what happens when I write these two, but it gets worse and worse and it's just really hot and scary for me. One more chapter of this traveling shit and then we're in Malibu._


	26. Chasing Pirates

"Just shut up and come on," Clint commanded as the two walked between the stucco buildings along the sand. Loki didn't look irritated, but he was almost petulant.

"I feel like this will be as interesting for me as ballet probably is for you."

"Hey, I have a lot of respect for ballerinas," Clint said, walking backwards to watch his lover. "Know why? Nat. But- ah jeez, I can't really- fuck, I walked right into that one. I can't really go into why. She'd be upset."

"You're rambling. Give me the water." He held his hand out as they went and Clint pushed the water bottle into his hand. He took large gulps and capped the bottle, keeping it for himself.

"You've read about this and, yeah, it's kinda boring as fuck, but seeing it is different."

"Then you've already been here before?"

"Well, I flew over it once. During the night. Lo, just shut up," he reiterated.

The pair walked onto a metal walkway with two other families as it branched away from the desert dwellings and arched out over a deep and large hole- a crater left by a meteor. From their height at the lip of the crater, land level, a truck at the bottom looked the size of a bumblebee.

Clint choked on his breath as they came up to the railing, leaving the families with their younger children along the edge where they apparently felt safer, jutting yards away from the land. "Holy shit. Okay, I didn't expect it to be that big."

Loki hummed and looked down to the bottom, the high wind flying through his hair and blowing it around him. "What do you expect from a god?"

It took a moment, but Clint turned to stare at Loki in surprised, and the god smiled at him knowingly.

"Wha- Did you just make a dick joke?"

The mother in one of the families nearby looked at him scandalously and turned her young daughter's head away from the pair. Clint saw and didn't a crap. Kids hear worse things at school or even just from their parents. Loki smirked as Clint snorted about his joke, turning back to the crater.

"Wow, I guess you really are acclimating if you can make dick jokes."

"Please don't remind me," Loki muttered. He squeezed the railing in his hands and roved his eyes along the crater's edge and down to it's depths. It was just a hole in the ground- brown with some plant life starting to grow along the inside, but it was massive.

"I will admit, it is more interesting than I thought, but there isn't much to see."

"Yeah, we won't be staying long," Clint chuckled. "Cool though right? This shit killed the dinosaurs and stuff. And then humans came along. I think we do a good job of killing the planet just by ourselves, don't you?"

Loki snorted and turned away, Clint following him out of the crater's area. "Yes, you have a penchant for destruction. I think you humans may do it best."

"That means a lot coming from an alien who's seen other aliens. Good or bad, heh, it says a lot."

* * *

They drove along the freeways again, through El Paso and into New Mexico, passing along it's southern counties and watching the desert become all they could see. It was hot, to say the very least, with Clint and Loki shedding their coats to get down to their long sleeves billowing in the wind. They didn't want to be sun burnt. At least, that was what Clint told Loki, who had yet to experience a sunburn. Clint thought that was ridiculous, being that Loki lived in a world that did have a sun and apparently was sunny a lot, but never burned. He said it didn't make sense and Loki said this planet didn't make sense. He was very snarky that day, doing his best to make jokes and take into consideration what a normal human being might say. While Loki said he despised how human he was becoming, Clint thought he was trying hard to fit in, where it seemed he never fit in on Asgard.

"Wait, wait!" Loki suddenly cried as they drove along the sand-blown roads, startling Clint into a slight swerve.

"What? What's wrong?"

"Pull over!"

Clint did as commanded and slowly stopped the bike on the side of the road. Loki clambered off and pulled his head out of the helmet, wincing at the bright desert sunlight and turning away to ruffle around in the saddlebag by his feet, cursing and mumbling.

"This planet." He pulled out a pair of sunglasses and put them on, sighing with relief before strutting away into the sand.

Clint stared after him in confusion for a moment before putting down the kickstand and following after him, helmet under his arm. He saw the god stomp up to a small cactus and broke into a run when he saw Loki squat before it and reach out.

"Ah- fuck. Loki!"

His run turned into a stumble when he tripped on the edge of a buried rock, the same color as the sand, and face planted the dirt. Dusty and sand in his mouth, Clint picked his head up with a groan and watched Loki flick one of the thick spines poking out of the cactus curiously. The god turned, ready to speak, and he looked confused at the sight of Clint on the ground.

"What is… What are you doing?"

Clint huffed and steadily got up, collecting his helmet and striding over. He grimaced and spit a glob of saliva and sand out beside them and Loki gave him an unimpressed glance.

"What is this?" Loki asked, moving on from Clint's trip to the sand.

Clint squatted beside him. "It's a cactus."

"Cactus…" Loki looked intrigued, fingering the tip of one of the spines again. "I thought… I thought cactus looked like this:" He proceeded to draw a picture between them in the sand of a tall cactus with two arms sprouting out of it.

Clint gave the drawing a half-agreeing nod. "Well, yeah, they do. But there are different kinds. Just like trees and- Haven't you read about this stuff yet?"

"I've read of a cactus but it didn't look like this."

Indeed this cactus was small and round, paddle-like growths branching off it with reddish-purple bulbs at the ends. Loki squinted at the purple growths suspiciously, poking them with one long finger and contemplating. They were the only things on the plant without the large spines. Some tiny ones, but small enough to grasp around. Which Loki did- plucking it off the cactus with a inaudible pop. He brushed a finger along the skin, knocking off the teeny needles until the thing was clean of them. He brought it to his nose and sniffed it, and Clint suddenly knew what was going to happen.

"Loki. Jesus, please don't eat that."

And Loki took a big bite out of it, where it squirted deep red juice that ran down his chin and he bent his chin down over the sand to let it drip off while he chewed thoughtfully. Clint stared, a little grossed out. He sighed and waited for Loki's assessment.

Loki hummed and inspected the fruit, still chewing. It was deep red, almost black on the inside, full of tiny seeds in it's fleshy coat. When he suddenly held it out for Clint to take, the archer took it gingerly, looking at it closely himself as Loki got up and started pulling off the other bulbs. When Clint finally noticed Loki holding out the bottom of his shirt to hold the fruits like a basket, he jumped up, confused.

"What are you doing?"

"These are delicious," Loki replied as if that explained it all.

Clint scoffed and turned away, making his way back to the motorcycle and brushing off the sand that covered him as he went. "You're ridiculous."

Loki didn't answer, but when he had filled his small make-shift hammock of cactus fruit, he came back to the bike smiling. Red lines from his lips and down his neck stained from the juices. Clint laughed at him and got on the bike, letting the god eat his fruit as he continued to drive.

* * *

The next stop, and Clint determined this would most likely be the last tourist site for them, was in Tombstone, Arizona. Clint had been here before, though he couldn't remember when. He recognized the Bird Cage though. They walked along the wooden walkways under the eaves of the buildings, watching carriage-pulling horses trot by in the dirt road. The people who worked in the area, employed for reenactments of the famous gunfights and Old West city life, were dressed in period costume and strutted about the boards looking fancy. When they reached the Bird Cage Theatre at the end, Loki laughed at the name and how Clint had remembered only this building and what was in it. Because of course the Hawk would remember a bird cage. Clint rolled his eyes at him and playfully shoved him into the building and out of the sun, paying for their tour.

Loki hadn't read much about the history of the Old West times, but he had seen the movie this town and it's history had borne, so he had enough of an idea. The Bird Cage Theatre was cramped with old furniture and dusty trinkets, paintings and lamps, tables with playing cards laid out like Doc Holiday and Wyatt Earp had just stepped out to pee. It was an eerie place with the lit oil lamps throwing long shadows along the walls. There was said to be ghosts that still wandered the Bird Cage, cowboys who'd been shot over a game of cards, whores from the level above who just couldn't leave the place alone. As the two looked in on the rooms of the old 'ladies of the evening', Clint asked if they had such a thing as ghosts in Asgard, proven real or not. They did, but they had no interest in 'proving' their existence, rather just content to know they wander and that's that. Loki found the human instinct to know endearing, pleased to see the thirst for knowledge and certainty. Though of course, that certainty could be good or bad.

"Alright, what about pros? You have prostitutes in Asgard?"

Loki peered along the walls, taking in the drawing of the women in their rooms, reading the plaques telling a woman's history. "Don't all civilizations have whores?"

Clint shrugged. "I guess so. Maybe. I think it's kind of a thing for developing societies. Cavemen didn't have pros, they just did it."

"Yes prostitutes come after sex has become taboo."

"So sex is taboo in Agard too?"

Loki hummed as he considered it, the both of them halting with a group to listen for ghosts that wouldn't show. The guide turned the lights off in the back of the building, hushing everyone to listen closely. Loki leaned in to Clint, whispering while his eyes roved the objects in the darkness.

"Everyone knows that everyone has sex, but we don't throw open our bedroom doors during the act. It is a private matter, except in the cases of barroom attics. Many a man has fallen through the ceiling and broken a bone during those drunken orgies."

Clint snickered at the imagery. "Ever been in one of those?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

The guide shushed the pair harshly for their whispering and soon turned the lights back on after nothing happened. Clint turned to the pool table in the center of the room with a smile, rolling one of the balls along the dark green felt.

"That's a yes," he chuckled. "Me too. No one else was gay though, so I had to be content with plowing all the girls I could reach."

"Oh, poor baby," Loki drawled sarcastically.

"Come on, did your ass get reamed in your orgy? I kinda doubt it."

The trail of guests in the theatre swiveled glances at the two, scandalized and glaring at their conversation. Clint pushed on anyways, and Loki raised his nose at them like he was of a higher stature. Loki rounded the pool table to stand opposite of his lover, twirling a ball on the table between two slender fingers. He looked smug and teasing.

"Our culture feels differently about sexual encounters between males in such that warriors are companions and life-long friends. It is not beneath one warrior to find comfort and solace in another for they understand each other better than someone of different occupation. There is no relationship- no monogamous tie, but a bond formed between the best of friends and warriors." Loki ticked his head to the side. "What you and I have could be called something like that were we in Asgard, but our continued solitary companionship and love-affair would be strange to the rest of the population. Some might even say we are wasting our genetic gifts by not passing them on in the form of a child."

Clint chose to skip the lesson and read between the lines, releasing the billiard ball when a guide asked them to not touch the 'relics', and he walked around the table to bring Loki along to finish the tour.

"So you got fucked."

"I am a prince- I do not get fucked," Loki retorted. "Not in public."

To this Clint laughed as they walked out of the back of the Theatre, going down the boardwalks one last time and seeing the sights before heading off again down the dusty highways. Loki held on around Clint's waist gently, happy enough to watch the landscape go by, spotting large lizards scurrying off the road when they zoomed on. While barren, it was still a fascinating area for Loki, who marveled at the tenacity and adaptiveness of Earth's animals to thrive in a wasteland such as the Arizona desert.

While Clint had considered stopping at a small dive off the freeway, something right out of a movie where bikers in leather would stop en mass and have a beer, he thought better of it and kept moving. He thought that maybe if he didn't have Loki with him, or maybe if Loki had spent a little longer on Earth and wouldn't stick out so badly there, then he would have. He had been to plenty of biker bars in his years; liked to swap stories about the things he seen and done with the burly guys in their leather chaps and boots. They underestimated him at first- always, until he proved himself. The first time was the brandishing of a gun at the start of a brawl, and then after that he carried a government ID or something equally awe inducing. But that was when he was young. Now, in his forties, scarred and a no-nonsense expression, he showed up on his motorcycle and the men nodded at him as he came through the doors. Loki was liable to start a fight right off the bat, and Clint said nothing to him about possibly stopping. Though when they drove by the establishment, the front lined with motorcycles, he felt Loki turn to watch the building get smaller with interest. He didn't mention it to Clint.

They entered California and soon started into Los Angeles by the highways, traffic backed up and hazy in smog. Clint raced them along the edge of the city as best he could, trying to dodge the rubberneckers at the site of a crash, until they rolled along the edge of the country, watching the blue ocean of the Pacific come into view until they reached Malibu, and Tony Stark's house along it's coastline.

At the gates along the road, Clint stopped and thumbed the button on the unlocking box nearby. From the speakers came Jarvis' voice in greeting.

"How may I help you?"

Clint leaned in and flipped up the visor of his helmet. "Jarvis, it's Clint Barton and Loki. Tony tell you we were coming?"

"Indeed, Mr. Barton. Let me get the gates for you."

The wrought-iron white and silver gates slowly slid open and Clint drove through, tracing the winding path through the property and up to the circular driveway, parking near the front door. The two brought their helmets with them as they dismounted the bike, Clint trying the handle to the door and finding that it opened easily. They stepped in and Clint set his helmet on the table beside the door, coat rack right beside it for his jacket which he shucked off as Jarvis welcomed the pair to the house.

"I'm afraid the garage and workshop are one and the same, and these are still off-limits to you and Mr. Laufeyson without Mr. Stark's explicit approval. Your motorcycle will have to stay outside."

"That's fine, we don't need to be in there anyway."

Clint watched Loki slowly, almost delicately begin to prowl the mansion's front room, a slow-forming and fond smile on his face at the surroundings. His fingers trailed over the arm of the cream colored couch absently as he neared the tall windows and looked out over the ocean.

"LUCIA is still linked into my system if you ever need to speak with her. You may even prefer to hear her over me if it pleases you. All you need do is ask."

"Thanks Jarvis." He had almost forgotten that the AI built into his bike was a small portion of Tony Stark's Artificial Intelligence system built throughout this house and the tower in New York. She was different from Jarvis in the sense that if Jarvis was a competent and all-serving butler/personal assistant, Lucia was that teacher you had in high school who knew exactly what she was doing, smart and sexy, and had every boy wrapped around her finger. It made Clint wonder if Tony saw Jarvis as a real person without a body, loved him just like a real person. Whenever Clint talked to Lucia, he felt like he was on the phone with a physical woman, never confused about anything he ever said, and he wondered if that could end up being something dangerous if AI systems like Jarvis and Lucia were available to the public. You'd be hard-pressed not to fall in love with someone that wasn't real.

He came up behind Loki as the god watched the sun slowly set behind the mass of water, setting his hand on the base of Loki's spine and dipping the tips of his fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

"So this is the Pacific Ocean," Loki said softly.

"Yep. Maybe tomorrow we can go down to the beach. Swim or or chill, whatever you want."

Loki hummed, pleased with the thought, and he turned away, slowly going through the rooms and inspecting all the lavish he found. Clint went into the kitchen and checked the supplies, finding canned and boxed goods, and then surprisingly, fresh food in the fridge. Jarvis informed him that groceries had been ordered and delivered a couple days prior for them. It was a trusted and discreet service used by plenty of celebrities and government officials, paid well to stock and organize the deliveries in the house without the need of supervision.

He left the kitchen to find Loki, going through the rooms- living room, bathrooms and bedrooms, gym, offices. He found him sprawled out face-down on a huge mattress covered in velvet and fur.

"I love this place," Loki said simply as he heard Clint enter the room.

Clint snorted and sat on the edge of the bed with a groan. He ran a hand along the comforter and groaned again at the feel. "Is it palace enough for you?"

"The colors are blinding, but it is spacious enough for me. You are quite useful, Agent Barton."

Clint chuckled breathily and moved to slide onto the bed, cuddling overtop Loki with his face pressed into the space between his shoulder blades. "I'm glad you're happy, Sir."

* * *

 **Short, but I wanted to be done with the trip and get on with the story. Seriously there's maybe... four chapters left until the end. Five at most if I can keep it on track and not just have them fucking all the time.**


	27. Dare

Clint sat in the tall grasses, winding a tall weed he plucked out of the ground around his fingers as he looked over the the ocean horizon behind Tony's mansion. Loki laid on his back and watched the puffy clouds inch by and he sniffed the scent of the salty water with pleasure.

"Where do you wanna go first, after we settle the villa?" Clint asked quietly.

"Africa," Loki whispered with a smile and Clint snorted.

"Really?"

The god nodded gently. "Egypt, specifically. But afterwards, anywhere is fine."

Clint assented and hummed, finding Loki's chosen location surprising, but he didn't want to ask why. It wasn't really his call- he'd go wherever Loki wanted him to go. They would set up their things in their borrowed villa, and then- whatever they wanted.

The California sun had lightened their mood considerably since they arrived. New York had been sunny, but it's not the same without a beach at your feet, lover by your side smiling at the clouds. Loki was doing just that- the slightest curve to his lips and breathing deep, wearing a set of creamy, loose pants gathered at the ankles, and a T-shirt nabbed out of one of Tony's dressers. The breeze fluffed over him to ruffle his pants and raise the hem of the shirt over his belly, and he seemed content to lie in the sandy grasses all day. Clint wasn't going to complain. Sitting beside him in shorts and tank, Clint let himself tan under the sun and watch the horizon blankly. When he watched the wind tussle over the god, revealing his skin in the bright light of day, he smiled and glided his fingers over the expanse affectionately before pulling away again.

"Do you know why I like this so much?" Loki offered in a pleased rumble, and Clint hummed in question. "I could do this on Asgard, but Thor would always run out to bother me. Hovering over me and wondering what I could possibly find endearing about lying still under the sun and watching the sky. He would ask me to spar with him or hunt with his friends; always saying that I wasn't busy so why couldn't I?"

"Yeah, but you're a little more nature-y than Thor," Clint said. "It's easy for you to enjoy that. When I was a kid, I couldn't sit still for a minute unless I was learning a craft."

"How did you learn to enjoy stillness?"

"Grandad, of course. Taught me the stars, and suddenly the whole world was this gorgeous, detail-oriented place and you can only see it if you sit still. I didn't take to it right away of course, but I got there."

Loki hummed and they sat again in silence, barely hearing the ocean below the cliff. A sharp metallic click and scrape drew Clint's attention, and it was only Loki lighting a cigarette against the breeze. He peeked open one eye and smirked at the archer, cigarette pinched in the apex of two fingers. Clint snorted at him and shook his head, leaning back with an elbow in the sand.

"Alright, let me have one of those."

And Loki handed over the pack and the lighter, letting Clint light his own and take a big drag. He left the pack of smokes between them, inspecting the small lighter off-handedly. He thought, some time after seeing Loki with it, that it could be a tracking device, but he felt like the odds were small and he had a hard time caring. He tossed the lighter onto the sand next to the cigarettes and laid back, moaning as he tasted the smoke leaving his lungs.

"Fuck, I haven't smoked since… Jesus I can't even remember. Fifteen years ago? Been a long time."

"Why stop?"

"Other than they kill you faster?" Clint laughed. "Ah, work, I guess. It gets expensive, and it's an addiction. Hard to shoot a target incognito when your hands are shaking 'cause you haven't gotten your fix."

"Does this mean you will start again?"

"I don't know. Probably not, but it sure is nice to taste it again."

* * *

Loki almost never changed out of the loose, lounge-y clothes since arriving at the mansion. He flowed around the place calmly, a light smile on his face if you knew how to see it. Clint spread himself out on one of the couches and watched the god go into the kitchen, happy that his lover was at peace here. He knew it couldn't last long, but it was something.

The television was running a James Bond marathon, the current film being Goldfinger, when Loki came back into the living room, two wine glasses in one hand, bottle in the other, dripping water onto the carpet in little pitter-patters. Clint smirked at him and Loki returned it, setting the glasses on the table and climbing on top of him, letting Clint hold his hips.

"What's that look?" Loki says lowly, leaning over him to touch noses.

Clint smiled and hummed, labeling the different colors of green in Loki's eyes internally before pecking a small kiss on his lips. "Just looking at your pretty face, baby. You planning to get drunk tonight?"

"I think you should be drunk with me. Hence both glasses."

"Oh, I see: you want to take advantage of me like the last time I was wasted."

Loki chuckled his low rumbly chuckle and went in for another kiss, more than just a peck, sliding his fingers down Clint's jaw and neck. "I've had my fun with you," he said and made a quick jab at the scabbing wound over Clint's ribs, making him hiss in pain. "You may have me again, if it pleases you."

"Mmm… Break open the bottle then."

* * *

Clint woke up the next morning on the floor, head under the coffee table and pants around his ankles. He groaned and lifted himself up, smacking his head on the underside of the table to exemplify his headache.

"Good morning, Agent Barton," Jarvis greeted with the movement in the living room.

The windows of the back porch lost their sun-blocking tint and let in the daylight to blind Clint in his hungover daze, and he cupped his hands around his eyes as he gently scooted out from under the table, trying to shield himself as much as possible from the light.

"The air temperature is a lovely 82 degrees with a light wind if you'd care to take a swim to clear your head."

Clint sat back against the front of the couch, knees out and ankles together as they were caught in his jeans, letting his limp cock hang as he groaned again. "Heat up the ocean, Jarvis; no one wants to see what happens when my goods get cold."

"You could wear shorts, sir."

"That's an option?"

Loki moaned from the other side of the room, rolling out from under the piano, naked but for the bearskin rug tied at the paws around his neck. He didn't get up, settling for lying on his back and staring blearily up at the ceiling, confused.

"Why am I wearing a bearskin?"

Clint let his head fall back onto the seat cushions of the couch. "Did we throw a rager last night- just the two of us? How does that happen?"

"You did consume copious amounts of wine during the course of the night, sirs."

"Oh my god- wine hangover! That's why I feel like so much shit."

"Shall I run a bath?"

From beside the piano, Loki moaned quietly. "Master bathroom, please."

"Of course, sir."

Clint carefully, and weakly, got himself up, pulling up his pants and holding them at his crotch before going to Loki and helping him up as well, untying the bearskin and letting it drop. They stumbled into the master bathroom already filling with steam from the tub, and Clint let Loki step into the water first while he calmly kneeled in front of the toilet and vomited. The god leaned back in the giant bathtub, eyes half closed and waited for the sound of the toilet seat and lid to clack shut before looking up at him. Clint wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand and shoved his jeans down to his feet again before gingerly getting into the bath himself, legs bent over Loki's and toes brushing his sides.

"I feel better," he sighed and let his head roll to rest nearly on his shoulder, looking at Loki just as tiredly. "There's... shit on your face. I remember why you had the rug on you."

Loki hummed at him, not capable of speech anymore.

"You were trying to be an indian chief. Because you were gonna 'reclaim your rightful land' and 'sow your wild oats' in me. Pepper's lipstick all over your face like fucking-" Clint starts laughing, rubbing his eyes with his wet fingers. "Like fucking warpaint!"

Loki groaned and rolled his eyes, trying to hold in his chuckles, but they soon slipped out of him, giving the archer a gentle kick to his sides for laughing at him. "And we didn't even have sex after all that! All that wooing and booze and I couldn't seduce you."

"We didn't?"

"No. I'm sure we didn't."

"I guess your offer didn't please me," Clint laughed. "I ain't that native, babe."

"See if I ever dress up for you again. Ugh, my head aches."

"I know, me too." Clint rubbed his toes over Loki's side, sliding down in the water until it reached his chest. "We'll get some pills when we get out. And food."

Loki grimaced and leaned his head back on the lip of the tub. "I don't want to think about food."

"Jarvis- jets."

* * *

Clint rustled around in the kitchen while Loki slowly got dressed, finding a waffle-maker and roaring triumphantly about it. Sitting on a barstool, dressed in his loose and pale clothes again, Loki rubbed his temples and sighed.

"You sound like Thor. Could you please limit your hooting to an acceptable volume?"

Clint chuckled as he set the waffle-maker up and asked Jarvis to look for a simple waffle recipe. "Sorry babe, just excited. Haven't had waffles in years. Did you take those pills yet?"

Loki grunted and dropped a handful of white pills on the counter. "I need something with which to choke them down."

"Gotcha."

Clint opened the fridge and selected a fresh carton of milk, pouring a glass and setting in front of the god. Loki sighed and thanked his lover, reaching for the glass and palming the pills in his other hand. He tossed them into his mouth and chased them with the milk. He drank down half the glass and watched Clint move around the kitchen at Jarvis' command, opening cabinets to find the listed ingredients. As a finishing touch, he looked into the fridge and found fresh blueberries, humming happily at how good they looked and set them on the counter. While Clint mixed the bowl of measured ingredients, Loki popped open the plastic box of berries and threw one into his mouth while he waited.

"Like this lifestyle, Boss? Waiting on me to make you breakfast in this fancy ass mansion?" Clint's face was calm, watching Loki happily as he stirred the mix in the bowl. He scooped a cup out and poured it into the waffle-maker, closing the lid and waving away the steam that wafted into his face.

Loki smiled gently, head in his hand. "Yes."

"Yeah, me too."

* * *

Their headaches and stomach pains cleared up throughout the morning, Loki pleased even more with the waffles made for him, happy that he didn't throw them up like he thought he would. They lounged in the living room after cleaning it up- throwing away the emptied wine bottles, righting all the decor and pillows thrown about. Loki found the lipstick he'd used on his face and put it back where he found it, same with the bearskin rug. For a few hours they watched TV, still a James Bond marathon re-run for the day, and watched the ones they missed while drunk. Lunch had been more waffles, since Loki had liked them so much, and then they actually dressed, though Loki couldn't say why he felt like he should be. He sat back on the couch in his jeans and long-sleeve, telling Clint when he asked that he just felt like he should be dressed. Clint squinted at him curiously for a moment and then settled back into the cushions, asking after a moment if he should be clothed too. Loki said he didn't know. Later in the afternoon, Clint still sat on the couch, with Loki wandering the kitchen again to look for a snack, and Jarvis lowered the volume of the TV.

"Sir, Agent Sitwell is on the premises."

Clint blinked hard and shook his head. "What?"

"A craft has landed on the helipad and Agent Sitwell is on his way to the door."

Loki suddenly appeared at the kitchen doorway, concern on his face. Clint met his eye with the same expression and got up from the couch slowly, watching the glass front door cautiously. When Sitwell came into view, walking to the door, Clint tensed and glared. The bald agent knocked and waited, patiently and professionally. The door, while glass, was mirrored on the outside to prevent casual peeking in, and Sitwell didn't try to get a look, acting as if the entrance were like any other door. Clint told Loki to stay where he was, out of sight from the doorway, and he went up and opened the door enough for his body to fit. Sitwell smiled at his appearance like a friend meeting another.

"Agent Barton-"

"Fuck are you doing here, Sitwell?"

"Checking on your well-being," he said simply, still smiling. "I was asked to make sure you arrived and settled safely."

Clint didn't buy that for a second, but he kept the squint of suspicion off his face, leaning into the door as though he were at ease. His eyes skipped over Sitwell's shoulder to check that his motorcycle was still there and intact, and it looked to be fine.

"What, the boss think Loki's gonna throw me off the cliff or something?"

Sitwell snorted. "I guess so. And it was a long trip driving here- making sure he didn't bury you in the desert."

"We didn't drive. I had the bike shipped here. We flew."

"Ah, I see. I was misinformed then. Agent Romanov said you were driving cross-country to see the sights."

Clint's heart started to pound even as he kept his face straight. He hadn't told anyone where they were going. Natasha and Fury had said not even to tell them. Sitwell couldn't know any of this. Behind him, Loki was stepping out of the kitchen, walking slowly and curiously to the back windows to look out over the cliff-side. Clint glanced back at him when Loki quietly uttered his name, backing away from the windows cautiously. Turning back to Sitwell, he heard the faintest whirs of helicopter blades, and he cursed. He balled up a fist and punched Sitwell in the face, throwing the door closed before running back into the house.

"Loki, pack your shit!"

The god had already run through the living room, throwing whatever things they had left out back into the saddlebags and backpack, while Clint shoved his boots on, reaching for his bow and strapping it over him. Waiting for the okay from Loki, they burst from the room and ran to the door, scanning the area for enemies. The helicopter was fast approaching, and men began swinging out from it to crash through the windows. They swiped up their helmets on the way out the door, hearing the glass shatter behind them as the back windows were blown in. Sitwell was still outside, cradling his face and shouting up at the skies through his earpiece as they ran out of the house. Clint shoved him aside as he went by, mounting the waiting motorcycle, and he didn't look back when he heard him give a sudden gasp and groan. Loki climbed on behind him and as Clint spun the bike around to peel out through the driveway, he didn't feel bad to see Sitwell lying on the ground, bleeding out.

The men in black who had crashed through the house tumble out the front door as Clint sped off, leaving them to regroup in the helicopter again. It gained ground on them as Clint sped them out of the driveway and onto the road, but they followed the bike at enough of a distance to seem unsure. Clint let Loki take the gun from his waistband to fire on the pursuers. He wasn't sure if the helicopter was bulletproof or not, SHIELD or not, but any cover fire was good at this point. He concentrated on the road, thinking of the next moves, and commanded Lucia to set up a route of escape. She listed an address and pulled it up on the motorcycles screen, leading him along. He wove through the streets, helicopter on their tail, and he wondered briefly why they weren't being shot at yet. And then the first bullets hailed down and he skidded away down another street to dodge them. A slight tug around his chest had him confused and looking down to see Loki's hands on his bow, pulling it over him and flicking out its limbs.

"I'm out of bullets," Loki half-shouted into the microphone of his helmet.

"Have you ever used a bow before?"

"I'm about to figure it out, aren't I? Which one of these explode?"

Clint didn't have time to explain to Loki which arrows in the quiver on his back were which as he weaved between cars, cutting through lines awaiting entrance to an airport. He barely heard Loki laugh at himself ("Obviously not that one.") through the noise of the road, the wind and honking of angry drivers even through the microphones. But Lucia overrode the sound anyway with a not-so subtle reminder.

"Agent Barton, might I suggest the missiles?"

He'd forgotten about the small but powerful armory inside the bike, thinking how unnecessary they seemed when he first heard about them, but now he was relieved.

"Yes! Can you target on your own?"

"Of course, sir."

The AI took that as the go-ahead and armed the missiles, firing them when ready and hitting the pursuers dead on. The helicopter exploded and spun in a crash of debris into the lines of cars, the bulk of it smashing into the toll booths blocking the path. Loki cackled through the headphones of his helmet and turned back to the front, bow still in hand and holding his arms around Clint. Lucia directed him through the airport and onto the tarmac, speeding past the parked planes loading passengers and baggage handlers looking on with confusion. She rattled of the numbers of their awaiting aircraft and Clint found it already taxiing, airlock open and stairs down to receive them. He angled for it, driving under the wings of another moving plane and found himself flanked by two black vehicles closing in to crush them in the middle. He twisted the brakes and squealed the tires to let the cars fly by them, throwing Loki into his back with an 'oomph!' before taking off again, sweeping around the chasing vehicles.

"I hate it when you do that!" Loki shouted. "You never warn me!"

Clint ignored him and raced up to their plane, coming out from under the tail. "Loki, when we get to the hatch you have to jump off, okay? You see that?" He pointed out to the aircraft rolling ahead of them. "Jump onto the stairs!"

"What about you?"

"I'll come around again. Get your shit ready!"

He steered them right up beside the plane, hatch open and just out of arms reach, and when Clint shouted for Loki to jump, Loki did, catching the lip of the stairs. Shots rang out behind them, shooting for the god and bouncing off the plane as they missed. Loki dangled above the tarmac for a moment before pulling himself up into the plane, Clint wavering the bike under him and pushing at his feet until he was out of reach. The cars zoomed up behind him again, close to bumping the back tire and shooting again, clinking against the metal and ricocheting until he swerved around them in a circle, swinging behind them and up to the hatch again where Loki was waiting, helmet off and hair blowing in his face. Clint took a deep breath and readied himself, steadying his feet on the rests and rising slowly off the seat as he neared. He revved the bike to jolt him forward just as he came up to it and jumped up to grab hold of the speeding plane, letting the bike swerve and slide, scraping the cement as it fell and slowed. Loki braced himself on a bar and reached down for Clint, letting him grab his arm and help haul him to safety. He and a bewildered stewardess frantically pulled in the stairs and closed the hatch to the oncoming vehicles and their fire, and then he shouted for the pilot to takeoff. The stewardess ushered them into a set of cushy seats, told them to fasten their seat belts, and then hustled over to her own seat and strapped in just as the aircraft pulled up to leave the tarmac. With the wind cut off and relative silence surrounding them but for the stray bullets from the shooters, Clint and Loki gasped and sighed as they sat and gathered themselves. Clint unbuckled the quiver from around him and set it on the floor, leaning back into his chair and reaching out to set his hand on Loki's thigh. Loki let his head fall back on the rest and put his hand over Clint's, letting his heart settle.

When they got into even air, hearing from the pilot that no aircraft was trying to chase them, Clint went into the cockpit and made a plan for landing. He called Tony through the plane's phone and told him what happened. Tony sighed and cursed and blamed Loki half-heartedly, saying he would find his bike and get it shipped to the villa. Clint thanked him and apologized for the damage to his mansion, also warning him that there could be a dead Sitwell on his doorstep. Tony had nothing to say to that except going slightly off-mic with 'oh my god- Pep! Get the dead-man-in-my-house-and-it's-not-my-fault papers!'

Exiting the cockpit, Clint went back to sit at the small table across from Loki. He watched the god look out the window at the passing clouds, sun slowly setting beneath them. Loki sighed.

"Now where will we go?"

"Well, Sitwell's most likely dead, so there's really no one else to come after us. Prophet was some two-bit wanna-be mastermind that Sitwell was probably paying to kill us. If he had any more contacts in SHIELD, I think we'd know. I'd say we're in the clear." Clint smiled when Loki finally looked away from the window to him. "We're going to Europe."

Loki returned the smile and leaned back in his chair, only now relaxing. "Finally."

"Yep. Just the two of us now. You and me… forever." Clint smirked and touched his boot under the table to Loki's.

The god snorted but smiled just the same, looking back out over the orange-pink clouds. "Fool."


	28. It Doesn't Really Matter

Settling into the wrought-iron chair with an almost inaudible sigh, Natasha adjusted the seat cushion under her and let one hand rest on the table. The waiter, impeccably dressed and a small and professional smile on his face, came up beside her and quietly asked what she would be drinking. She murmured to him in Italian and leaned back in her chair as he left, watching people stroll by the little restaurant.

It was a beautiful day- sun shining and no harsh wind barreling through the roads. The Mediterranean some yards away over the cobblestone walkways was calm and blue, seagulls flying over it in search of food.

The waiter returned with her drink and took her order, swiping the menu away that she had barely glanced at. Looking back out over the throngs of tourists and locals, she took note of a couple that appeared while she had looked away. Two men, one tall and lean, dark-haired and leaning against a stone wall; the other that sat atop it- blond and muscled. Natasha's breath left her in a short huff and the corner of her mouth lifted in a small smile.

A year of searching finally at it's end and she did nothing but watch the pair smile and laugh, too far away to hear what they could be talking about. After SHIELD dissolved and she and Fury began rebuilding a service only people like them could provide, Tony Stark and the other Avengers included, and they scoured the planet for others, loyal others, to work with. Only two who they especially wanted had eluded them. Not that Clint and Loki were hiding, really. Their exploits were all over the news, though they never left a sign of who committed the crimes- nothing was ever really linked together. And who would believe that the people who executed a ring of human traffickers on video were the same ones who broke into the Louvre and drew a mustache on the Mona Lisa and put bras and jockstraps on every naked statue?

Tony had a folder in his computer systems labeled 'Birdbrain' with all the news he thought was Clint and Loki's doing, but he refused to talk about where he thought they were hiding. Jarvis was under orders not to speak of Lucia or Clint's whereabouts as well.

Finally with the time to spare, Natasha was able to weasel the locations of Tony's vacation homes from Pepper and weed them out. And here she was, watching the two look out over the sea without a care in the world. She thought Clint looked happy, happier than she'd seen him in a long time, and she was content to let him slip through her fingers. He smiled at Loki the way he used to smile at her- big and with calm, content eyes. He stood out from the people with his blue jeans and tight black shirt, and a mark on his neck she squinted at to make out: a paw print tattoo. She snorted and rolled her eyes, because of course Clint would be smitten enough to have a tattoo of his lover's 'spirit animal'. She wouldn't report to Fury that she'd found them, though he would most likely know she had. They wouldn't be able to bring Clint back and keep him on a leash.

Loki rustled in his pockets and brought out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and passing another to Clint when he held out his hand for it. With his butt against the half-wall, Loki held the stick of tobacco daintily in the V of his fingers, elbow resting on his other hand and looking like the stars in black and white films of old- posh, stylish, untouchable. He looked and acted the part, while Clint sat beside him as a kind of modern greaser; tattoos and cigarettes and tight T-shirts. Natasha didn't bring any high tech devices with her for this trip to listen in. She let herself have this vacation while she searched for her AWOL partner, bringing only her guns and knives. There were daggers strapped to her thighs under her blue and white sundress, a small gun in her purse on the table, ready to kill if need be. But she'd yet to encounter any problems. It was a vacation, after all, where she could travel the world, dress to make herself comfortable, and sit in the sun on a restaurant patio in Italy while she watched her old partner kiss their one-time enemy.

No one would ever catch them, she thought. Too wild, too carefree, and too driven to stop for anyone but each other, they'd do whatever they wanted and nobody could stop them. They'd been found by Natasha because they let themselves be found, that she knew. Whether Clint knew she was there or not, it didn't matter- Loki knew.

As Clint hopped down from the wall, sticking the end of the smoke in the corner of his mouth, he reached for Loki's hand to drag him away down the waterfront, not taking notice of anyone around them. But as Loki let himself be pulled, falling into step with the archer, he turned his head in her direction, seeing her far away down the street in her pretty dress and cocktail in hand, and he smirked. She kept her face blank and tipped her head to him, acknowledging his glance. He looked away and waved his fingers behind him as the pair walked down the pier, and Natasha tried to keep her heart from fluttering in excitement when a small paper burned into existence on the table, folded in half and waiting. She looked at it for a long time, until her plate arrived and she touched it finally to move it out of the way- fearful, exhilarated, anxious, and happy all together at the correspondence. So it was true, she thought. Loki had gotten his magic back. She flipped it open and read, and the smallest smile tugged at the corner of her red lips.

* * *

 **And that's the end. Thanks for reading, letting me know what you think. I think my writing has changed at least a little from the beginning of this thing and I'm happy. I actually had this chapter, this epilogue, written the day after I wrote chapter 1. Been dreaming about reaching it for a long time.**


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